


I'm Hopeless (But Hoping)

by AegwynnMagna



Category: Warcraft (2016), Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Vampires, lothar is tired, why do my characters always talk so damn much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21862459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AegwynnMagna/pseuds/AegwynnMagna
Summary: That was not part of the plan.Lothar is a vampire hunter. Along with Llane and Taria, he's dedicated his life to ridding the world of their menace. He's pretty good at it, actually. Until those close to him start falling victim to the curse one by one and he meets one particularly intriguing individual who proceeds to turn his world upside down.
Relationships: Khadgar/Anduin Lothar
Comments: 25
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Where Angels Fear To Tread](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5391935) by [unscriptedemily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unscriptedemily/pseuds/unscriptedemily). 



> A few months ago, I read unscriptedemily's Roy/Ed (Fullmetal Alchemist) vampire fic which I absolutely adored and I was very inspired to write my own with Liontrust. So here it finally is! Hope you enjoy:)
> 
> Title from _Still Breathing_ by Mayday Parade.

###### Scene 1

Anduin checked his gun. He gave Llane a glance and received a nod. He turned his attention back on the target. Breathed in.

The lights were on – that made things slightly easier. It still didn’t help in calming his nerves.

There was static in his earphone before Taria’s voice cut through the silence.

“ _All clear._ ”

Anduin breathed out.

And the window exploded.

 _That_ was not part of the plan.

The rest of it was a blur – Llane cried out, Taria started speaking really fast, and Anduin rushed forward. Someone - _no_ \- had burst out the window, landing on his back on the shards of glass. Anduin skidded to a stop as the man – person - _thing_ jumped to its feet way too fast. It didn’t spare Anduin one glance, immediately focusing on the gaping window. Someone screamed inside the house and Anduin’s blood froze.

“Anduin, look out!”

He only had time to see red eyes glowing before he was hit in the chest. His breath was knocked out of him as he fell to the ground. Immediately, he rolled over, narrowly avoiding the claws that had been heading straight for his throat. He struggled with the safety of his gun but didn’t have time to fire. A gunshot split the air, going straight through his attacker’s head. It collapsed in a heap.

Llane was there in an instant to help Anduin stand up. More screams came from the house and they only shared one glance before running inside. Three days ago they had been called in to investigate an abandoned house that was rumored to be squatted. It had only taken them twenty-four hours to confirm this, and twenty-four more to formulate a plan. They’d waited until morning before moving.

The place was a mess: overturned furniture, plaster dust, crumbling walls… and bodies. Anduin heard Llane’s gasp but didn’t falter: he could hear fighting from deeper inside the house. He immediately rushed forward, ignoring Llane’s warning.

The first bodies he encountered were definitely human and too pale for him to have any real hope. Bloodless, he knew without even having to check. In the third room, there was someone pinned to the wall, black blood oozing from where the knives sink into the skin and bones, right thigh, left shin, both hands, left shoulder… She was still conscious and she started screaming as soon as she saw him.

She must have been in pain but the only thing Anduin heard was pure, unadulterated rage. She pulled on the knives keeping her stuck and it visibly worsened her wounds. Anduin was taken aback for a whole minute before another voice joined her screaming and shocked him into action. He only had to aim and shoot: the safety on his gun had been off ever since he had stepped into the house.

The woman fell silent immediately, the gaping hole in her forehead steaming. Anduin breathed in deeply, savoring the silence till it lasted. It was a thump and a groan that brought him back to the task at hand. He slowly approached the door, left slightly ajar, gun at the ready. Before he burst in, however, he heard someone speaking.

“I never thought you’d stoop so low.”

A low voice, gravelly, evil - almost too much so, that Anduin blinked disbelievingly before he remembered exactly what he was doing here in the first place, and then a cold shiver ran down his spine.

Another voice spoke, and this one sounded out of breath and struggling.

“Fuck.. you…”

The first man laughed and Anduin strained his ear to hear what the second was saying.

“Piece of shit… You.. are the reason why they hate.. us…”

“No,” the other voice growled, stopping laughing suddenly, “they were always going to hate us. You just refuse to see it. it’s a pity, really. You have a great potential, Khadgar.”

A low moan resounded, turning into a sharp cry of pain and the first man chuckled.

“It’s too bad I have to kill you.”

Anduin kicked the door open, gun pointed forward. He only had time to see a tall, humpbacked man leaning over a young man slumped against the wall. He fired, narrowly missing the tall man’s head.

He turned towards him, eyes flaming and mouth stretched open, revealing his sharp and elongated canines. He hissed furiously and pounced.

Anduin fired twice, the bullets lodging themselves deeply, the first into the monster’s shoulder, and the second in his abdomen. The beast faltered and wobbled on his feet, expression caught between fury and fear. Then, it launched itself out of the window, breaking the glass in the process, and disappeared in the early morning.

The silence that followed was deafening. Anduin breathed heavily, his breath forming puffs of steam in the cold air. His heart was beating fast in his throat.

“Shit- fuck- damn-”

Anduin started. In the spur of the moment, he hadn’t realized that the other man was still here. He was trying to push himself up against the wall and he was struggling, wincing and moaning in pain. Anduin rushed to his side, falling to his knees and reaching out. He stopped mere centimeters away from the man’s skin. The man? - _no_.

Glowing red eyes met his and a pained sneer curled over sharp teeth. Pasty skin, made even paler by the wounds that were dripping blood all over dirty clothes, blood that was much too dark.

He hissed and Anduin stumbled backwards, falling on his butt. He gripped his gun tighter and aimed it at the wounded man’s head. He was glad when his hands didn’t tremble, despite the adrenaline rushing out of him in waves even as he faced yet another vampire.

“Wait,” it groaned.

Without taking his eyes off the other man, Anduin shook his head.

“Give me one good reason not to.”

“Both my legs are broken and it’s gonna be a real bitch, please don’t add gunshot wound to the head on the list of things I’m going to have to explain to my master.”

Fear made way to confusion in Anduin’s mind. “What-”

“Anduin!” Llane’s voice was like a thunderclap in the night. 

Startled, Anduin glanced towards the door just in time to see Llane running through, looking panicked. He felt a violent rush of air and he cursed, glancing back to the wounded vampire - who was gone.

Anduin jumped to his feet and ran to the window but it was as he suspected: the world outside was totally peaceful. Not a trace of any supernatural, blood-sucking creatures.

“It’s okay, I’ve got him,” he heard Llane say behind him.

He turned and saw Llane was talking into his watch. Anduin uselessly reached for the earbud he could feel was missing: he must have lost it at some point during the raid. Having lost all contact with him, he could only imagine how worried Taria was.

_Fuck._

Llane laid a tentative hand on his shoulder and Anduin sighed.

“Come on, Anduin. Let’s go.”

“Where were you?” Anduin asked tiredly.

“There was a vampire in the hall. It stopped me from following you. Ran away before I could shoot him dead, though.”

Anduin could feel another sigh coming but he managed to hold it back. He let himself be led by Llane through the house. They passed near the dead vampire, still pinned to the wall, and then through the hallway littered with human bodies. A deep weariness settled in Anduin’s bones, that could not be explained solely by today’s fiasco.

Another day, another mission failed. It seemed that no matter their efforts, the monsters always managed to slip in between their fingers. Always at the edge of their grasp, dancing and laughing at them. Driving Anduin crazy.

Anduin dragged his gaze across the dead bodies, barely seeing them. They couldn’t save them - they had been too late. Too late to realize that the disappearances all happened within the same three block radius, too late to trace them back to this abandoned little house in this shady little neighborhood. And too late to move and hunt the motherfuckers who got their kicks in bleeding humans dry.

Anduin’s gaze caught on a prone figure by the door, as pale and still as the others, but much smaller. He felt the bile climb up his throat and he gagged. Llane was by his side instantly, face scrunched in worry. He followed his wide-eyed stare and immediately his face turned to stone. He closed his eyes for a second, breathed in deeply and breathed out slowly.

“Come on, Anduin,” he said quietly, nudging his shoulder.

Taria was waiting for them in the car outside. She must have started driving before they had even been done to be here already. Whatever the reason was, Anduin was grateful. As soon as they were seated, Llane took out his phone and dialed.

“Unit 47 reporting.”

Anduin blocked out the rest of the conversation. He laid his forehead against the window and watched the world pass them by, washed up by the dawn. Taria snuck him a few worried glances through the rear-view mirror but he ignored her.

“Anduin,” she said quietly.

He blinked and realized they had arrived.

It was barely 8am and the precinct was mostly empty. They nodded at Karos who was on security duty and made their way to the Specialized Unit for the Pursuit and Elimination of the Refractory - which was a mouthful, so that everyone shortened it to Supernatural Unit. That led to the agents to be nicknamed the Supers, which was only slightly better than “the vampire hunters” which is what Anduin and his friends had been calling themselves before the police created a special bureau. The truth was, even if the people you were fighting were vampires, it was still illegal to maim or kill them. It had been a good thing the general opinion was on their side, as the government struggled to contain the situation. When they had been approached about the Super Unit, they had been commended for their actions as freelancers and promised that no legal action would be led against them. It had felt like apotheosis. Now, ten years later, it just felt like a curse.

For centuries, vampires had been but a legend, a myth to write and read and make movies about. No one could have suspected, back then, that the myth had its basis in reality. But about twenty years ago, streaks of disappearances all over the world had plunged the world into panic. After eons of hiding, the vampires were crawling out of their caves and attacking humans without discriminating. At first, they kidnapped and hid their victims in woods or caves. Then, they started leaving the bodies out in the street. Eventually, some had even dared to attack in broad daylight. Videos all over the internet were definite proof of that. 

Laws had been passed, trying to force any vampire to register with the State Vampirism Regulation Authority, which promised to offer legal protection to those who did. It became illegal to be an unregistered vampire and the witch hunt began. People would either report neighbors or friends they suspected or directly attack them. The Super Unit was created in an effort to control the quickly spiralling down situation. People did feel safer since and yet, the vampire attacks were still numerous. None of the efforts of the Supers or the remaining groups of illegal hunters actually managed to make a dent in the vampire’s numbers. More times than none, the Supers’ missions ended with the agents being injured and the vampires having escaped…

Llane laid a hand on Anduin’s shoulder, dragging him out of his thoughts, and squeezed.

“A unit has been sent out to clean up the house. They’ll track down the families and notify them. You did good, Anduin. You did everything you could.”

Anduin smiled faintly. 

“Thanks,” he murmured. “I’m going to shower,” he said next.

Taria and Llane both watched him as he headed for the precinct’s showers. He knew they worried about him but there was nothing they could do. Years ago, all he had ever wanted was to make it his life’s goal to eradicate the bloodsucking monsters. Nowadays, all he wanted was for this whole thing to finally be over.

He had somehow managed to get blood on his pants and shirts. Since there was no point in trying to wash the clothes, he threw them in the trash and stepped in a shower stall. He turned the water as warm as it got, not caring as it burned his skin. It took a few minutes before he could feel his muscles relax but when it did, it took all his remaining strength not to crumble to the floor.

He was oh so tired.


	2. Chapter 2

###### Scene 2

Anduin ducked just in time to avoid having his brains splattered all over the wall. He shot blindly, a spike of satisfaction running through him at the pained cry that followed. He didn’t wait around to see whether he had badly hurt his attacker. He began running through the dark house, passing through multiple empty rooms. He could hear sounds of struggle on the lower floor and he looked for stairs. While he ran, he also fumbled with his walkie-talkie. He had, once again, lost his earbud at some point during the fight. The walkie-talkies had been Taria’s idea when she had finally gotten tired of losing contact with him. 

He pressed the button and yelled into the receiver.

“Taria, can you hear me?”

For a few terrifying seconds, only silence answered him until statics came through and Taria’s disembodied voice resounded.

“ _Thank fuck, Anduin, you’re alive._ ”

“Not for long if I don’t find a way out. What’s Llane’s status?”

“ _I don’t know. Last I heard he was going in after you. Do you not know where he is?_ ”

“Fuck!”

Anduin turned a sharp left and found himself in a large open space. He caught sight of the descending stairs and breathed a sigh of relief. The spattering of feet was the only warning he had before he was tackled to the floor. His shoulder hit the floor with a sharp painful pang. Anduin cried out and grabbed a handful of hair and pulled.

The vampire hissed and showed his teeth, dangerously close to Anduin’s throat. Anduin writhed and tried to lend a kick or a punch but the vampire held him down. Victory flickered in its eyes as it prepared to land the final blow.

A gunshot blasted out. The vampire became a dead weight above Anduin, crushing him. It was pushed off of him as soon as it had appeared, however, and Anduin coughed as the air rushed back into his lungs. His arms were grabbed at once and he was pulled upright.

Anduin let himself be helped, a rush of relief rushing through him as he thought: _Llane!_ His ears were ringing from the gunshot and his mind was still reeling from the shock. As he was pulled to his feet, his shoulder twinged excruciatingly.

“Come on, we gotta go,” said a voice that wasn’t Llane’s. “That might’ve stalled him but he’ll be on his feet in no time.”

Anduin blinked up confusedly at his rescuer.

“You’re not Llane,” he muttered.

His head was pounding: he touched the back of it and his hand came away bloody. _Hu._

His rescuer snorted and pulled his arm. Anduin bit back a cry as it jostled his injured shoulder.

“Fuck, are you hurt?”

Anduin could feel himself wobble and he tried his best to focus on the world around him. He stared at the man who had just saved him, trying to make out his features in the dark.

“We gotta get you out of here. What are you even doing here anyway?”

“Who are you,” Anduin slurred.

“Nevermind that, come _on_.”

Anduin focused on putting one foot in front of each other, frowning at how difficult that proved to be. After what seemed like an hour, he reached the top of the stairs and his vision swam. He miraculously stayed upright but the other swore and quickly pulled him away.

“Okay, okay,” he repeated meaninglessly, “let’s go through there, keep walking, you’re doing great.”

Anduin let himself be led through doors, feeling as if he was falling deeper and deeper in a dark hole, losing himself in the maze that this old house was. He could feel the panic beating inside his chest but it was muted and Anduin didn’t have the energy to care. Eventually, he was lowered to the ground, back to a wall, and instructed to not move while the stranger went and locked the door, not that was going to be much help in stopping a vampire set on entering, but it was better than nothing. This room was much brighter than all the others and Anduin let his eyes be drawn to the open window where he could see the full moon shining amongst the clouds.

The stranger was back at his side now, stripping his outer jacket, leaving him in a pristine white shirt. The jacket was folded and put on the back of his head. Anduin blinked.

“Hold that there.”

He obeyed without thinking, applying pressure to his head wound. Now he was sitting, he could observe the stranger to the light of the moon.

He had mid-length brown hair and soft features, round cheeks and jaw that made him look very young, younger than Anduin would have guessed from his voice alone. He spoke with a kind of confidence that was a stark contrast with his appearance. He was dressed simply, in a shirt and black pants, wearing black boots, which gave no information as to his identity. It was only when he looked up and crossed Anduin’s gaze that he realized.

Although they were dull, there was no mistaking: his eyes were red. The shock registered faintly in Anduin’s mind and brought a sliver of memory to the forefront of his conscience.

“It’s you,” he stated.

“Me?” the vampire smirked.

“Are you going to kill me?”

The vampire’s eyes widened momentarily before he burst out laughing. He slapped a hand against his mouth, stifling his laugh, and glanced guiltily at the door. It wouldn’t do to attract some unwanted attention. For now, they were hidden.

“Did you somehow miss the part where I just saved your sorry ass?” he asked once he had calmed down.

Anduin frowned.

“But you’re a vampire,” he said hesitantly.

The other sighed. He shifted so he wasn’t crouched on his heels anymore but sitting cross-legged in front of Anduin.

“Yes, I am,” he admitted. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Why?” Anduin asked bluntly.

The stranger closed his eyes and tightened his lips. Anduin noticed how pale he looked - his skin looked almost ashy, the blue veins showing through the thin layer of flesh. He looked dead, sitting so still. It made Anduin want to shake him.

“We’re not all monsters, you know,” the vampire said quietly.

Anduin snorted.

The vampire’s eyes shot upon, shining with annoyance. Without the preternatural glow, his eyes looked almost brown and it would be easy to ignore their redness. His cheeks did not look flushed with blood like the others of his kind. Like this, with his mouth closed, only the tip of his sharp canines were showing. He looked like a human playing dress-up, like Anduin had so often seen and he used to think of it as cute, before... Well, _before_.

“We are not,” the vampire insisted.

Anduin raised an eyebrow but refrained from commenting further. Instead, he removed his hand from his head and felt around for his wound. It seemed to have stopped bleeding and he felt more aware than he had a few minutes ago. The dizziness was mostly gone, so he probably did not have a concussion, which was good. He let his head fall back against the wall and stared out of the window, eyes fastening on the full moon.

It shone brightly against the starless sky, as if taunting him. Anduin glared. It would be hours still until dawn.

Anduin knew he had fucked up - he had known that from the moment he had ran into the house. He had gone directly against multiple SUPER guidelines. They had received the call at around eleven p.m. and had driven to the area in order to watch the comings and goings to prepare for the raid in the morning. That’s how they saw the van parking right across the street and the three girls being led out and to the house. They’d followed placidly. It’d made Anduin’s blood rush and his jaw clench.

The call had been placed by a drunk college girl worried about her friend who’d seen her friend chatting with some guy at a nightclub. She’d noticed her friend’s behavior was suspicious and when she had seen her leaving the club with the guy, she had decided to follow them. She had found them in a back alley, the guy sucking on the girl’s throat - she had been about to leave them be when she remarked how unresponsive her friend was being. She had kept watching until the guy had led her friend to a van and they had both left. She tried calling her friend who wouldn’t answer. That’s when she had decided to call the Super Unit.

Taria had answered and had agreed with the girl’s assessment. The behavior she’d noticed was definitely suspicious and could mean vampire activity. Still, it wasn’t proof, even if the Super Unit had been known to act on little more than a hunch at times.

When they’d seen the three girls being led into the house, all three of them following calmly like little lambs, though, they had known they had to do something. As Taria, still at the precinct, immediately called for backup at Llane’s urging, Anduin had acted without thinking. He had grabbed his weapons and jumped out of their truck, giving chase. He had heard Llane crying out his name before swearing loudly.

The first floor had been empty when Anduin had burst in. He’d then gotten to the second floor and that’s when all Hell broke loose. There were five vampires that Anduin could confirm seeing. He had shot two before they had even had the time to move and then he had had to duck and run to avoid being gutted by the three others. The house, which was actually a mansion, stretched into a labyrinth of rooms and hallways which twisted and intersected. Each was as empty as the previous ones. Anduin had eventually been able to take down a third vampire, having gained enough distance between them and him to turn around and aim. The fourth one had been right behind the third and had immediately attacked him, keeping so close that it was impossible to shoot him. They’d scuffled until Anduin found himself back to a wall, so he’d ducked and shot. The fifth one had tackled him in the stairway: he’d gotten shot by the strangely passive vampire.

Those were the ones Anduin had _seen_ : he knew he’d heard sounds of struggle coming from downstairs, where, in all probability, Llane was. He worried his lip as he tried not to worry too much about his partner. He knew LLane could fend for himself and besides, he had to focus on his own precarious situation.

“So”, he said, voice hoarse. He cleared his throat as the vampire’s strange eyes latched onto him. “If you’re not gonna kill me-”

“I won’t!” he interrupted fiercely but Anduin ignored him.

“...then will you at least tell me your name?”

The vampire’s face twisted as if in pain before smoothing out into a neutral expression. He opened his mouth before closing it again, hesitating. Eventually, he frowned, and, as if suddenly making up his mind:

“Khadgar,” he said plainly.

Anduin could feel a smile dance on his lips and he didn’t stop it.

“Is that your real name?”

He growled as if offended Anduin would even ask.

“Yes,” he answered forcefully, all trace of hesitation gone. “So then what’s yours?” he asked, and his tone made it sound more like a challenge than a simple question.

Tiredness settling in, Anduin did not even bother to pretend to waver.

“I’m Anduin,” he said.

Khadgar deflated at once and Anduin wondered whether vampires got tired too - he’d read, when he had been researching the species, some twenty years ago, that they didn’t sleep, but that didn’t mean they did not feel weary at times.

“So how long are we supposed to hide in here?”

Khadgar blinked at him owlishly.

"We're not hiding," he said pointedly, "we're waiting."

Puzzled, Anduin frowned.

"What for?"

Just as he asked that, there was a series of thumps in the corridor outside, followed by an eerie silence.

"For this," Khadgar grinned.

Anduin did not have time to question further as steps resounded just meters away from the door and a voice bellowed: 

"Anduin!"

He started even as he recognized Llane's voice.

"Oh thank God," he murmured.

He struggled to stand, wincing as his shoulder twinged and his legs complained. Khadgar had not yet moved.

"Llane!" Anduin called out.

The footsteps grew closer and suddenly Anduin gasped.

"Khadgar, you must go now. If Llane finds you here he'll shoot you on sight."

The grin had not slipped from Khadgar's face.

"Oh, I've had worse," he said.

Anduin's eyebrows shot up to his hairline but once again Llane's voice prevented him from asking anymore questions.

"Andu-"

He felt his heart fall to his feet as the word ended in a gurgle. 

"Llane?" He asked hopefully.

He could feel himself blanching with every passing second that only silence answered him.

He rushed to the door, not heeding Khadgar as he called after him.

"You really shouldn't do that-"

The door was blown out of its frame. Anduin narrowly avoided being crushed by it. He reeled and took a step back right as a vampire took a step in. Its skin was flushed, veins violet rather than blue popping out along its jaw and down its neck. It looked more monstrous than any Anduin had seen before. Its clothes were drenched in drying blood and half his face was missing.

The vampire hissed and Anduin froze.

In retrospect, that wasn’t the smartest thing to do: the vampire moved at superhuman speed and was at his throat in the blink of an eye. Anduin felt the preliminary scratch of its fangs into the soft skin of his neck and the warm gush of blood down his chest. He closed his eyes tightly, deciding that he would rather not stare Death in the face afterall, so that all he could do is hear the cry and then the thump and when the excruciating pain he’d been expecting did not come, his eyes shot open.

Khadgar was on top of the vampire, clawing his way through its stomach, blood and guts flying all around him. The vampire had its hand around Khadgar’s throat, trying to choke him, and the other dug into his back and a black liquid oozed from the resulting trenches. 

Anduin shook himself and grabbed his gun. He soon realized he could not shoot the vampire without risking hurting Khadgar, so he discarded the gun and unsheathed the blade he always kept strapped to his thigh. It wasn’t his weapon of choice, but he didn’t have any qualms about using it either.

He drove the knife through the vampire’s arm and it let go of Khadgar’s back immediately. Its strength seemed to be dwindling fast and soon enough it fell unmoving to the ground. Still, Khadgar kept digging into his stomach, face twisted in pure fury.

Anduin grabbed both his shoulders and drew him away.

“Stop it, it’s done, he’s dead!”

Khadgar shrugged him off violently and Anduin staggered backwards. Khadgar hissed at him, eyes crazed and his foam at his mouth in such a way that sent a spike of adrenaline through Anduin.

“Khadgar,” he called out, not caring at the moment that his voice quivers with terror.

He took one step forward, sharp teeth catching the gleam of the moonlight. Anduin had half a mind to unbuckle the small firearm he kept for emergencies such as these-

And Khadgar stopped. And turned away. His shoulders tensed and he shuddered and then, all at once, all the tension seemed the ebb away from his body and just like that - it was over.

It took Anduin a couple of deep breaths in before the memories came rushing back.

“Oh my god, _Llane_!”

Pushing past Khadgar, Anduin ran out of the room and skidded in the hallway.

Llane was lying motionless, half supported by the wall at his back, and there was a deep gash on his shoulder. Anduin fell to his knees next to him and laid his head against his chest, listening for a breath. He almost sobbed when he felt nothing and jabbed his fingers where his head laid crooked against his uninjured shoulder. His skin was so pale…

“Let me,” Khadgar said from behind.

Anduin turned teary eyes towards him and scooted away, letting Khadgar kneel besides Llane. Khadgar grabbed his wrist and grew somber as he made the same assessment as Anduin.

“He has a faint pulse. He needs to be brought to hospital, given a transfusion and medication.”

Anduin started. In his panic, he had been unable to think this clearly so he was grateful for Khadgar’s words. He took out his walkie-talkie and was about to press the button to connect to Taria’s when Khadgar’s hand covered his.

“Wait,” he whispered. “When the medics arrive, it might already be too late. But there is another way.”

Khadgar’s eyes bore into his, searching, filled with a sorrow that Anduin did not comprehend.

“What do you mean?”

Khadgar’s eyes flickered to Llane’s throat where the vampire’s fangs had dug deeply, breaking into his carotid artery. Khadgar licked his lip. Anduin gasped.

“No,” he cried out.

He threw himself in front of Khadgar, blocking Llane from his view.

“You are not turning my friend.”

Annoyance darkened Khadgar’s features and he spat:

“Would you rather he dies?”

“Yes,” Anduin stated, and despite the quiver in his voice, it was true.

Khadgar stared at him, conflicted.

“Fine,” he said eventually. “Then you better hurry.”

Anduin did not wait to be told twice. They had wasted enough time already.

“Taria?”

“ _Anduin! Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you in half an hour!_ ”

“Call an ambulance. Llane is hurt.”

Taria did not answer so Anduin assumed she had immediately dialed the number.

Khadgar stood up and took a few steps back. His face was closed and unreadable. In just a few steps, he was standing at the door to the room. 

“Wait,” Anduin said. He hesitated before asking: “if… when they resuscitate him, he’ll be.. human right?”

A soft smile dawned on Khadgar’s face.

“He’ll be okay,” he said quietly.

“But will you?” Anduin asked.

Khadgar’s eyes turned sad but still he smiled.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said and left with a wink.

Anduin stared at the doorway long after Khadgar had gone. The shock was setting in and his mind started running in circles, replaying the events of the last hour. Even when the paramedics arrived and started asking him questions, he could only answer them distractedly. The bustle of activity did not help to ground him and he found himself slipping slowly into apathy. The events of the night kept repeating in his head, flashing images and sounds which did not make any sense. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness were Khadgar’s pale red eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

###### Scene 3

The hospital bustled quietly. Doctors and nurses paced the open area, not paying Anduin any mind. His dislocated shoulder had been set some time when he had been unconscious. He had an IV delivering him a steady dose of painkillers, for which he was grateful for. His head felt like it was filled with cotton candy, too light and too heavy at the same time. 

He kept thinking about Khadgar. Who was he? Why had he attacked those vampires? Why save them?

And most importantly: why didn't Lothar just shoot him as soon as he'd realized what he was?

But the answer to that question was easier to come than the others. Khadgar, despite being a vampire, had never been a threat, and Lothar couldn't have justified his hurting him. That surprised him and confused him. All throughout his life, vampires had been the one constant. He had grown up hearing the horror stories, remembered thinking they were only made up to stop teenagers from sneaking out after dark, until his wife had been attacked and killed, when they were just nineteen. Her death prompted Lothar to join a band of vampire hunters, back when they were still illegal. He and his two childhood friends, Llane and Medivh, went on the hunt to find Cally’s murderers and bring them to the only justice that these monsters understood: execution. They were getting so close to the goal when they had been attacked. He and Llane managed to fight off the vampires but Medivh wasn’t as lucky.

It took them a few hours to realize that he had been bitten, between the rush, the confusion, the minor bruises. For three days afterwards, Medivh fought against the virus, but eventually succumbed. On the dawn of the fourth day, he had disappeared, leaving the two with only the knowledge that their friend had become the very thing that they loathed the most: a vampire.

It took years before the government finally reacted to the increase in death and turns. The vampire population slowly grew as the government stood by and did nothing, spouting nonsense about ethics and humanism, as if it weren’t humans who were being slaughtered or - worse, in Lothar’s opinion - turned into monsters every night. Lothar was amongst the first to sign up for the SUPER unit, which simultaneously granted him the right to suppress known vampires and immunity for his past deeds. From criminal in the eyes of the State, he had become a hero, praised for his civilian actions, his great commitment to the security of all citizens.

And Lothar had been proud. Prouder, even, when his son, who had just turned eighteen two months ago, joined the police trainees, going through the official hoops in order to join the SUPER unit himself. Callan was only three months old when his mother was killed. The only memories he had of her were the photographs that his aunt had shown him - Lothar refused to look at them - and the stories he had heard from his aunt and uncles. Those bedtime stories he'd heard growing up were terribly true, rooted in a reality where his mother was gone and his father obsessed with revenge. However, as the years went by, Lothar's thirst for vengeance grew sourer and sourer.

Every vampire he killed now sent him further into the bottle rather than filling him with the righteous elation he'd grown addicted to. He was praised daily for every successful mission, but they felt more and more like an old routine Lothar was struggling to get out of. He realized the necessity of fighting against the vampires but it seemed that, for every one he killed, five more appeared, so that rather than diminishing their numbers, they only seemed to increase. Lothar had never felt so useless in his life

Stuck in the cycle, Lothar was waiting for something to come break him out. He'd tried fighting the inertia, tried finding that rush that used to fill him while on hunts, but if he was honest, he was just tired. Tired of the searching, the fighting, the nursing his wounds in hospitals, the late nights stalking some abandoned building on the outskirts of town, tired of talking to his sister more out of a walkie-talkie than in person… but after eighteen years of it, Lothar could hardly imagine himself doing anything else. He couldn't stop, anyway - because this was expected of him, because _this_ was necessary until they were rid, once and for all, of the vampire virus. 

But Khadgar was a vampire, and Lothar had not tried to kill him, because Khadgar had saved his life. And Lothar could not, despite his best efforts, figure out why.

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because when he opened his eyes again, it was night out. The curtains around his bed had been drawn to give him privacy and he could only hear the soft whirr of machinery and the quiet whispers of the medical staff. Lothar turned his head and his blood froze in his veins.

Faint, glowing red eyes were staring at him. 

Lothar forced his breathing to stay steady. The red eyes were unwavering, staring straight at him. In the near darkness, they were all he could really make out of the vampire's face. His body was one long dark line, apparently sitting on a chair. Lothar slowly reached for the help button near his bed.

"You're awake," the vampire suddenly said.

Lothar started. But as he recognized Khadgar's voice, all the tension in his body was released and he took a deep breath in.

"Oh my God," he whispered angrily, "you just scared the shit out of me."

Khadgar leaned closer and Lothar could now make out his lean features, his pale lips, his hollow cheeks, that looked like they had seen much better days. He was smirking and it triggered an automatic fear response from Lothar who had to consciously relax his body. His white pointy teeth glimmered in the darkness.

"Sorry," Khadgar said aloud, not sounding sorry at all.

"What are you doing here?" Lothar frowned.

Khadgar sat back in the chair. As Lothar's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could follow Khadgar's movement. Although he tried to look relax as he lounged on the chair, there was obvious tension in his limbs. It must not have been easy for him to get past the hospital security to reach Lothar. Still, he seemed to make it a point not to lower his voice and hide his presence. He gave off a defiant vibe that made Lothar both incredibly upset and really impressed.

"I wanted to see how you were," Khadgar shrugged.

Lothar cocked an eyebrow. He doubted that was the only reason - or even one of the reasons at all - that Khadgar was here, but he couldn't think of any other. Besides, he was too shot up on painkillers to want to push the matter.

"Well," he whispered, "now you know."

Khadgar's eyes narrowed as he smiled.

"Indeed."

Yet he didn't move. Lothar squinted his eyes at him, confused, but amused nonetheless.

"I'm alright," he felt it useful to state. "Thanks to you," he added quietly.

Lothar did feel grateful, if only because, had Khadgar not been there, he would most certainly be dead right now, and Llane along with him. But he couldn't help but feel suspicious about _why_ Khadgar had done so, and that made it difficult for his thanks to sound completely genuine.

Khadgar shook his head slowly. He shifted on the chair, averting his gaze.

"You would've been fine on your own," he mumbled.

Lothar blinked.

"Bullshit."

Khadgar glanced at him in surprise but immediately looked away again. He stayed silent long enough for Lothar to grow curious.

His gaze was transfixed by something up high, near Lothar's bed. Lothar craned his neck to see what it was. The machines' lights flashed steadily. The full bag of transfusing blood caught the light and glimmered.

Lothar kept his breathing slow but he couldn't help his heart skipping.

"You've saved my life twice, now," he said loudly, trying to get Khadgar's attention.

It worked. The vampire started and, guiltily, turned on the chair so he could put both his elbows up. He leaned his chin again his crossed hands and went back to staring at Lothar, not blinking.

"So I have," he said carefully.

"How can I repay you?" He asked, half joking half serious, as the suspicion planted its seed in his mind.

Khadgar smiled.

"There's no need."

Lothar snorted. He was a little more awake now, a little more conscious, and his brain had started running through hypotheses faster than he could follow.

"Oh really? So you really are just here to check on me?"

Khadgar stayed silent, a sign that Lothar would usually put on the count of guilt, but he hesitated in jumping to that conclusion.

"Listen, I don't care why you're here, or why you've helped me in the first place, to be perfectly honest." 

He was lying. He cared a lot, and he knew his curiosity wouldn't let it rest for long, but despite his slowly awakening brain, he still felt fuzzy. His muscles were also starting to hurt a lot and he longed to hit the button that would release a new dose of morphine through his veins. Despite all of Khadgar's good actions, Lothar still didn't want to actively drug himself up while he was sitting next to him.

"So, if you're really just here to check on me, that's great, and I'm fine, so you can leave now," he continued. "But if you've got something to ask, ask it now, because I'm really not in the mood. And if you don't, thank you, good bye, and get the hell out of here before someone finds you."

Khadgar chuckled - Lothar didn't expect that. Anger, maybe, scoffing, yes - actual mirth… that was surprising. He frowned at Khadgar who was now shaking his head with a small smile on his lips.

"Very well," he said. He stood up, his long black coat falling gracefully around his thin body. "I'll leave, then."

Lothar nodded mutely. Khadgar hovered for a few seconds before leaning down and patting his shoulder. Then, he straightened up and left, the white privacy curtain falling behind him and hiding him from sight. Lothar blinked and then, without really thinking about it, pressed the morphine button.

He was out in minutes.


	4. Chapter 4

###### Scene 4

The street was dark and damp. Lothar stepped around a particularly deep puddle. He had his hands in his pockets, trying to fight off the cold wind that swept the streets. In his right hand, he held a swiss army knife, flipping it open and close mindlessly. It made a satisfying sound each time it slid open and then close that reassured him as he made his way through the infamous Bloody Neighborhood. For the hundredth time tonight, Lothar asked himself what the hell he was doing here.

He had been released from hospital three days ago with a bruised rib, painkillers and a leave from work. Llane, his partner, was still in a coma, with doctors and specialists arguing daily about the probabilities of him waking up. For the past two days, Lothar had stayed at his home, looking after the kids, Adariall and Varian, while his sister was at her husband's bedside. Taria had eventually come home, figuring she'd be more help near her children, reassuring them about their father's condition, than having to hear the doctors speak of numbers and previous cases and "in all probability" all day long and having them not say anything at all.

Lothar was glad for the peace and quiet when he had gotten back to his own apartment. But as the hours slowly passed, Lothar found himself growing more and more agitated. When he couldn't take it anymore, he'd slipped his boots on, put on his coat and went out for a walk. 

The late afternoon had turned into the evening. Lothar had stopped for a quick dinner before stepping into the cold night again. 

Ever since leaving the hospital, he'd been unable to stop thinking about Khadgar. If he was confused about the vampire before, after his visit, he was entirely clueless. For that reason, and despite his instincts that were currently screaming at him to _turn around you suicidal maniac_ , Lothar had decided to go look for him.

The Bloody neighborhood had gained its name some twenty years ago after a particularly large group of humans had taken arms and marched onto the biggest vampire ghetto in the country. The next few days had been ones of never seen before violence and slaughter, from both sides, before the authorities had regained the control. Many had been judged and imprisoned, many more had escaped justice and had been the main target of vampire attacks in the months that followed. That event had been the trigger for the chain of events that had finally forced the government to annul the Vampire Recognition Act and create the Specialized Unit for the Pursuit and Elimination of the Refractory. Since then, the vampires had gone back into hiding, turning neighborhoods into protected areas where anyone who wasn't supposed to be here would be spotted and rid of the minute they stepped foot in the area.

The State tried fruitlessly to regain control of the dissident neighborhoods and people just learnt to avoid them, just as they'd learnt to lock their doors, not go out unaccompanied at night, and some had even turned towards - largely unproven - old ways of protection. A whole new business had grown from the high demands of garlic and crucifixes. It made Lothar sick to think about how anyone could find profit in the situation while people were getting killed daily because no actually efficient way of dealing with the outbreak had yet to be found. 

Except for the SUPER unit, the state didn't seem very interested in finding new ways to fight the vampires. It caused a lot of unrest, with marches being organized for the clear and quick extermination of every single vampire - which would be quite difficult to do, considering most were in hiding - and some who protested for the recognition of vampires as citizens who needed to be protected and not hunted. 

As a prime member of the SUPERs, he was often approached by journalists wanting to know his stand on the government's involvement or about the latest petition to bring back the Vampire Recognition Act. Lothar kept from voicing his opinions, at least publicly. His friends and family all knew that he was outraged at the State’s cowardly inaction and that he scoffed cynically at those who would defend the vampires, as if they weren’t the cruel assassins that everyone knew they were, and had known for decades now. It had been twenty years that Lothar had known, firsthand, the cruelties that these beasts were capable of, twenty years that he fought every day of his life, putting himself and those he loved in danger, to rid the Earth of the most violent of vampires.

Yet, when he did think about it, he had to admit that it would be preposterous to assume that every vampire was the same, cold-blooded, merciless killer that had taken Lothar’s wife away from him. He knew - in theory at least - that some vampires only desired to be left alone to continue living a life that they had never wished for. For it must be hell, to live beyond death, craving, each day, the blood of those that were kin before, but only food now. Herein laid the fundamental flaw of the Vampire Recognition Act, and of all the efforts that were undertaken when the curse first reappeared in the public eye. Vampires - for all that they had been human first - were not in control of their needs and they would never be able to reintegrate human society, for they needed blood to survive, and without it, would simply die.

Lothar was sure that many a vampire loathed to have to take the blood of innocents humans, in order to gain what was considered, for every human out there, first necessity: sustenance.

Of course, Lothar understood the moral dilemma of the situation, but that had never stopped him in his endeavor, first as a vampire hunter, then as a SUPER. In his mind, vampires simply weren’t humans anymore, and it was a mercy to kill them, and allow them to leave this life of depravity and yearning.

Yet, as the years went by, and the number of deaths by vampires did not diminish, but rather increased, not only in the country but in the whole world, Lothar found himself questioning his actions. Every night found him on the streets, listening to Taria’s intel over the walkie-talkie, and storming into empty houses with Llane to perform their vengeful duty. To the vampires, Llane had lost a father and a brother, who had been too young to deal with finding their father’s lifeless, bloodless body, and had put an end to his life four years later. The very next year, Cally, Lothar’s wife, his love, his life, had been assaulted and left to bleed to death in a darkened street, two tiny, deadly holes pierced into the fragile skin of her neck.

For years, the memory of her, of her heavy body cradled in his arms, of her shivering lips as he had finally found her and was waiting for the ambulance, knowing fully well that they would not get here in time, that memory had been enough to fuel his strength in fighting the vampires. Not knowing which vampire was responsible, Lothar’s grief-fueled rage had aimed itself at every single vampire he could get his hands on, and Llane, his life-long friend and brother-in-law, had joined him. When they’d been approached by the vampire hunters, a group of vigilante who had organized their hunt effectively and who were always looking for more members, they’d been more than happy to join their ranks.

And when the State had created the SUPER unit, Lothar and his colleagues had been ecstatic. Finally, they had thought, the state recognized the threat that the vampires represented and was willing to take definitive action to eradicate it. But years passed without any efficient measure to be put in place had considerably dampened their elation. And Lothar had grown sour. Twenty years, and countless of men and women killed in the name of vengeance and his righteous mission to rid the Earth of the vampire menace. Twenty years, and still, more vampires slipped out of the shadows every night, to strike against the human race, and back into the shadows where it was Lothar and the SUPER unit’s job to track them and put an end to their pitiful lives. Twenty years…

Lothar was tired.

Every day that dawned shined a light on all of his failures and his powerlessness in face of the increasing threat. More than once, as he had been about to deal the final blow to yet another vampire, he’d stared into the monster’s eyes and tried to catch the glimmer of humanity that still shined there, surely, a relic of their past. Too often, it had been the moment of hesitation that they’d been waiting for, and he had found himself forced to fight off a vicious retaliation that he barely escaped alive from, the vampire dead at his feet, or gone fleeing into the night. Whichever it was, however, he always was overwhelmed by the same feeling of dire hopelessness and disappointment, wishing that the vampire would have won and finally put an end to _his_ pitiful life…

And everytime, like a shining beacon, the memory of his son Callan would snap him out of his self-pitying daze and back in action. Callan was still so young, full of life and hope. He looked at his father as if he truly was the hero everyone said he was. Lothar couldn’t let him down. And so he fought, and struggled, and killed, and stayed alive. But if it wasn’t for Callan, Lothar didn’t think he’d still be standing today. In fact, he knew he would have given up the fight a long time ago. He just didn’t see the point anymore, not when it seemed like he was amongst the few left to give a shit about the deaths, while the State authorities twiddled their thumbs, waiting for a miracle, and some idiots protested for the protection of vampires.

Lothar didn’t even have the energy to be pissed off anymore. His days were spent the same way he’d had for the past twenty years - sleeping - and the nights the same - hunting. Every once in a while he would receive a special commendation for his outstanding performance in the line of duty, usually after having to spend several days in hospital nursing injuries. He barely saw his sister anymore, only ever spent time with Llane if they were working, and Callan… He couldn’t remember when was the last time he’d seen Callan. They lived in the same flat, but when Lothar would get back from work, early in the mornings, Callan had already left for training, and when Lothar woke up in the evenings, Callan was holed up in his room, studying. 

If he was being honest, Lothar would admit that he was avoiding him. Of course he had been proud when Callan, eighteen years old, having gotten high honors on his high school exams, had told him he was enrolling into the police task force to become a SUPER. He had known Callan was doing it so that his father would finally pay attention to him, the way he had hoped he would all of his life, when Lothar was too focused on the job and his revenge to truly care for his son. When he had realized that, it was too late, and Callan was too far into idealizing him for Lothar to feel truly comfortable around him. Yes, he loved his son - but the years had built a wall in between the two of them that Lothar didn’t know how to bring down. Perhaps if he actually tried, he thought wryly, he would succeed, but the truth was that he didn’t even try. As with many things in his life, Lothar had observed the facts, made his conclusion and then done nothing at all.

Well, Lothar was tired of doing nothing.

That was what he was telling himself, as he bravely strode along the wet streets of the Bloody Neighborhood. He was surprised to have even gotten this far without being assaulted. Vampires had a special keen sense of smell that had surely alerted them of his presence way before he had actually crossed the unofficial frontiers of their territory. No humans willingly walked those streets, unless they had a death wish. Although Lothar couldn’t deny that he had one of those, that wasn’t the reason that brought him here. He had spent the last twenty years waiting for something to change. Two weeks ago, something finally did: a vampire saved his life. That fact was more important to him than anything that had ever happened to him since his wife’s death. Lothar wasn’t about to stand by and do nothing.

His fingers deftly handled the knife in his pocket while his eyes surveyed the shadows. He could feel the gazes following him as he walked, hear the whispers around him. A cold sweat had broken out on his skin, sliding down his spine. But Lothar wouldn’t turn back.

It suddenly occurred to him that, beyond just waltzing into the hottest vampire’s nest in the city, he had no idea what he was doing. He didn’t know where Khadgar lived - he didn’t even know if he lived in this neighborhood in the first place. He had gone there in the hopes that Khadgar would find him, before anyone else did. As the shadows grew thicker and louder around him, Lothar started realizing how foolish that had been.

Three shapes emerged from the shadows, standing in his way. Lothar’s step faltered until he stopped. One glance behind him told him what he already knew: two more vampires were standing behind him, preventing him from escaping.

Lothar sighed and braced himself.

The five vampires all attacked at once, which Lothar thought was quite unfair. Years of fighting against their kind had made him attuned to every of their superhuman fast movements and he lost himself in the familiar battle dance. The next minutes were a confusing mix of grunts, parries, hits, dodges, and sharp pain. Against five of them, Lothar didn’t stand a chance, but that didn’t mean that he would go down without a fight.

The first of his blows to hit home sent the vampire stumbling backwards, bringing a stunned hand to his bloodied mouth. Lothar smirked as the vampire looked at him with murderous eyes. He didn’t get to gloat for long, though, as another one jumped on his back, clawing at his skin. Lothar cried out in pain.

He crouched, and his assailant came tumbling down, crashing to the ground on his back. He was back on his feet in seconds and Lothar desperately raised his knife to block his blows. He started being pushed backwards, feeling himself being surrounded by the vampires. They all started laughing as they stepped closer - they were playing with him, Lothar thought. His blood froze in his veins as he felt hands grabbing him.

_I’m going to die,_ he had the time to think.

“Hey, asshats!” he heard.

His eyes flew open just in time for his vision to be engulfed in sudden flames.

The first vampire to fall victim to the fire lit up like a candle and his dark figure amongst flames seemed to combust and fall into ashes almost instantly. He yowled and the sound was the worst that Lothar had ever heard.

Lothar gaped for only a second, as the vampires snapped out of their stunned daze and hissed. Two turned to face their new assailants while the other two jumped at Lothar. He painfully dodged their attack but cried out when a claw caught on his jaw. 

"Duck!"

Lothar owed his life only to his honed reflexes. The flame burst above him, engulfing both his assailants at once. The fire crackled as the vampires screamed, being turned into ash in instants.

When the fire died down, the silence that followed was somehow even more bloodchurning than the screams.

Lothar turned around to face his savior. His heart skipped a bit when he recognized Khadgar. He was holding what looked like a modified gun, while wearing a huge backpack. He was breathing heavily, and his gaze was set on Lothar, smoldering.

Lothar slowly grinned, although it turned into a wince as he straightened up.

“That was scary,” he panted.

Khadgar only glared at him.

“Come on,” he grumbled, walking away.

Lothar jogged to catch up with him, wincing the whole way. Khadgar glanced at him when he fell into step with him and he stopped short.

"You're hurt," he frowned.

Lothar snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah."

"I don’t suppose you have any regenerative abilities."

Lothar blinked.

"Um. No."

"Figures," Khadgar muttered. "We gotta get you patched up and soon. These fuckers might be dead but they've got friends and they won't be happy. What were you doing here anyway?”

“I was… looking for you,” Lothar admitted.

Khadgar stared at him like he’d grown a second head but didn’t comment. Instead, he just resumed walking and when he realized Lothar wasn’t following, he turned his head and called:

“Come on."

"Ok," Lothar shrugged, and immediately regretted it. "Where are we going?" He asked after they'd been walking for a bit.

"I know a place," Khadgar said.

Lothar sighed.


	5. Chapter 5

###### Scene 5

Khadgar's "place" was only a few blocks away, although it didn't go past Lothar that they'd exited the unofficial Blood neighborhood. Only when they had crossed the threshold and Khadgar flicked the lights on did Lothar realize this was Khadgar's actual _place_.

"You live here," he gaped.

Khadgar smirked.

"Yeah," he said. "Sit down," he then enjoined him.

Lothar stared quizzically at the beat up little sofa Khadgar was pointing at. He sat down cautiously, not wanting to add to his injuries should the couch not hold his weight. It did, surprisingly. Lothar watched as Khadgar busied himself, going to and fro a small room that must've been a bathroom and the kitchenette on one side of the flat.

Khadgar approached him with a wet cloth and a bottle of antiseptic.

"Here," he said handing them to him.

Lothar thanked him. He dabbed the cloth and proceeded to wash his jaw where the vampire had cut him. Thankfully it was superficial and didn't start bleeding again, but it did sting.

"Um," Lothar uttered, "could you… could you do my back?"

There was a minute of awkward silence during which Khadgar stared at him expressionless, before he seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts. He stepped forward and took the antiseptic and the cloth from Lothar, nodding.

"Remove your coat and shirt," he asked.

Lothar complied, wincing as he slipped the coat off and the movement pulled on the rapidly drying wounds on his back. As he was undoing the shirt’s buttons, Khadgar went around the couch to have better access to his back. When Lothar slipped his shirt off his arms, he heard a sharp intake of breath.

"Is it that bad?" he worried.

He twisted to look at Khadgar, whose skin had turned slightly pink and whose breathing was still shallow.

"...no, it looks superficial," he eventually said in between locked teeth. He drenched the cloth in antiseptic and reached for Lothar's back. "This is going to sting."

Lothar winced as the alcohol hit his injured skin. Khadgar was being very gentle as he swept the cloth over his shoulders, gently cleaning the wounds. The cloth got stuck on the patches of dried blood, pulling at the reddened skin around the wounds. Lothar clenched his teeth and endured.

When Khadgar was done, he stayed standing behind Lothar, silent. Eventually he reached over and traced a swollen scratch down Lothar's shoulder.

Lothar shivered violently and turned around to stare at Khadgar. For a split second, their gazes met, Lothar confused and Khadgar taken aback. Khadgar averted his first, turning his back to Lothar. He spoke loudly.

"You're fine. They've stopped bleeding already."

Khadgar quickly walked away, towards the kitchenette. He turned the tap on to its highest setting, energetically washing his hands, and effectively stopping any kind of conversation. Lothar frowned as he picked up his shirt and slipped it on again, leaving it unbuttoned.

When Khadgar came back in the living room, Lothar had already started thinking about something else, putting Khadgar's strange action out of his mind.

"You've saved me," he said as soon as Khadgar was back in his field of vision. "Again."

Khadgar smirked. "So I have."

"Why?"

Khadgar's smile faltered and his face darkened.

"I'd have expected a thank you first."

Lothar barked out a laugh. 

“Right. Cause you did it all from the goodness of your heart.”

Khadgar lowered his face, hiding his expression from Lothar, but the hard set of his shoulders and the way his hands tightened into fists spoke plenty. Lothar bit his lip and cursed himself from the bitterness that he couldn’t keep out of his voice. But he wouldn't apologize. He'd come here in search of answers and he intended to get them.

“I wouldn’t, would I?” Khadgar said softly.

Lothar hesitated.

“You tell me,” he said.

Khadgar looked at him calculatingly and eventually scoffed. 

“Maybe I just wanted to, or maybe I do have an ulterior motive. Maybe I just wanted to have a bit of fun,” he smiled.

“So you’d turn on your own kind?”

Khadgar’s smile turned wry.

“These _things_ are not my kind.”

Lothar raised an eyebrow.

“Oh no?” he jibed. “So if you’re not a vampire, then I’m not a super, and my job isn’t to kill you, then.”

When Khadgar’s only response was an incendiary glare, Lothar had the presence of mind to look sheepish.

“Is that why you ventured into the Blood Neighborhood today? To find me and kill me?” Khadgar asked harshly, putting his hand on his hip.

Lothar began shaking his head.

“Well, at least you’ve succeeded at step one.” He stepped forward and opened his arms wide, effectively offering his chest. “I’m here. Kill me. Or try to, I guess, cause I’m not going to make this easy on you. And I just have to say, killing you will be a real waste of my time spent saving you, you know. So? Come on, then. Come kill-”

“No,” he said, softly but it made Khadgar fall silent nonetheless.

Lothar raised a tired gaze towards him, hoping to convey the exact kind of weariness that he currently felt. He didn’t know how successful he was, but Khadgar seemed to see _something_ he didn’t expect in his gaze, because he sat down on the couch heavily, sighing.

“Not all vampires are bloodthirsty monsters, you know.”

Lothar snorted and immediately wished he hadn’t. But Khadgar smiled and scoffed and went on:

“Well, I guess we are… but not all of us hate humans.”

He looked straight at him as he spoke and Lothar felt uneasy under his gaze. He swallowed and cleared his throat.

“Is that right.”

“Shocking, isn’t it?” Khadgar rolled his eyes. “It shouldn’t be.”

“Why not?” Lothar frowned. “As far as I’m concerned, vampires have done a damn good job at pissing off humans.”

Khadgar shook his head.

“Yes, but it’s counter-instinctive. Vampires… _need_ humans. And not just for their blood. Nobody benefits from this cycle of hatred and death.”

“And yet the number of killings by vampire has only increased.”

Khadgar sighed.

“Well, yes, but at first, and you have to understand this, it was survival. Vampires were seen as this threat that they weren’t because of… misconceptions and prejudice, and they were hunted and killed because of who they were. As if they had had a choice to turn into the one thing humans hate most! And the hunted had no other choice but to turn into the very thing that they were accused of being, dangerous, vicious, murderous monsters.”

Lothar leaned forward, arms resting on his knees, and winced as the movement pulled at the wounds on his back. Thankfully Khadgar didn’t notice, as he was focused on a loose thread in his trousers that he was busy pulling on.

“But not all of them? All of _you_?”

Khadgar’s mouth tightened momentarily. He glanced at Lothar and his eyes held something painful.

“Some of us,” he started gingerly, “are trying to be different. Better. Trying to fix the past. Or, well… not the past,” he said more confidently. As he went on, he seemed to become more lively, and Lothar could only imagine the rush of blood that would have risen to his cheeks had he still been human, but even then, it was compelling. “We can’t fix the past. What’s done is, sadly, done. But we can fix the present so that the future might be brighter and better. And the future starts now, with us.”

Lothar stared at him fixedly, observing how much more lively he looked than only a moment before, when they’d been walking through the dampened streets. Though his pale, smooth skin and red eyes gave him an ageless complexion, he still looked very young. Lothar knew vampires did not die naturally and didn’t age so Khadgar’s appearance did not tell him anything about how many years he had already spent on this Earth. But his energy, his earnestness held something so decidedly innocent that Lothar couldn’t believe him to actually be older than him. 

The realization set uncomfortably in Lothar. So young, and already his entire life had been stolen straight from his grasp. When did it happen? How did it happen? And who did it? Who had lured him into some dark corner or attacked him and sunk their fangs into the skin of his neck to infect him?

He couldn’t help but feel angry at the unfairness of it all. How many kids like Khadgar were doomed to live an eternity of craving and hiding, of killing or being killed? How lucky was Khadgar that Lothar hadn’t just shot him on sight that first time they’d met? Even now, after all that had happened, Lothar’s instincts were screaming at him at his proximity with the vampire. 

And who could blame him? Every vampire he had ever met had tried to kill him without ever trying to strike up a conversation before. Not that he had ever tried to speak with one before, not that was ever an option he’d considered. And there was one thing that could not be denied: vampires were humans’ natural predator, literally having to feed on human blood for their own survival. How could one expect humans to live in peace alongside that? Even before being a vampire became illegal, the standard apology for vampires went along the lines of “Yes, but…” which hadn’t ever convinced anyone. Humans would never feel comfortable around vampires, even those like Khadgar.

“That’s a nice dream, kid,” Lothar sighed.

“It’s not a dream!”

Khadgar’s mouth snapped shut, in shock at his own outburst. But Lothar barely flinched and then shrugged.

“Oh yeah? How many people share your views, then? How many of the vampires that roam the streets, looking for their next meal, would agree with you right now? Because it sure doesn’t seem like only a minority is attacking humans every night. Do you have any idea about the number of bodies that turn up every morning?”

“That’s because they don’t know any better!” Khadgar said vehemently. “Vampires aren’t any different from humans - they have the same prejudices. When all you’ve ever heard about vampires is how they’re bloodthirsty beasts, why should you question that when it turns out that you’re one of them now? Not to mention that most vampires are welcomed into convents that tell them that all the humans want to do is exterminate our kind and that the only chance we have to survive is to fight. And when the likes of you show up and start shooting before asking questions, you’ll excuse me if that doesn’t exactly incite anyone to question the state of things.”

Lothar frowned. The kid had a point - even if he loathed to admit it. But it still wasn’t enough to convince him that peace between vampires and humans - because that was what he was suggesting, wasn’t it? - was even remotely possible instead of one side wiping out the other. 

“So why did you?” he asked.

Khadgar blinked.

“Hm?”

“Why did you question it? What made you… different?”

Khadgar wrang his hands and shifted in his seat. In spite of himself, Lothar found himself leaning even more closer to him.

“I wasn’t always,” Khadgar whispered. “But I changed. Someone,” he said cautiously, glancing at Lothar but averting his gaze almost immediately, “made me realize that this was not who I was, not what I wanted for myself. Made me realize that I could change, that there was indeed hope.”

Lothar nodded slowly. It was obvious that it took a lot of courage for Khadgar to tell him that - although, for all Lothar was concerned, it didn’t actually tell him much of anything.

“So you used to attack humans. But you don’t anymore?” he asked, unsure of himself.

Khadgar nodded mutely.

“But you still need blood, right?”

Khadgar bit his lips.

"No…"

"No?" Lothar asked.

Khadgar sighed before answering: "It's sort of like… alcohol. Or rather a drug. We don't need exactly it but once we've had a taste, well…"

Lothar frowned, unsure if he should believe Khadgar's words. A memory from three nights ago at the hospital came back to him. Uneasy, he looked down at his hands, twisting them on his lap.

"But you still crave it."

Tentatively, he glanced at Khadgar through his eyelashes. He looked torn, his expression one of painful uncertainty.

“Sometimes,” Khadgar murmured, and something in his gaze made Lothar think that he wasn’t completely focused on the conversation anymore, but spiralling down thoughts Lothar did not want to know about.

“Wait,” he said,a little too loudly, and he started at the same time as Khadgar, which made him flush. “Let me get this right. Are you telling me vampires don’t _need_ blood to survive?”

Khadgar smiled, a softness in his gaze which was only moderately undermined by the point of his canines showing above his lip.

“I’m alive, aren’t I?” he said. But then, his face darkened again. “But no. We do need blood.” Khadgar sighed. “Ok, so, you know how vampires are damn hard to kill because they can basically recover from any wound?”

Lothar gaped at him. After a few seconds of complete silence, Khadgar snorted, then sobered up, said “Wait, really?” and burst into laughter.

“And you call yourself a vampire slayer?”

Lothar glared at him until he calmed down.

“You mentioned regenerative abilities earlier,” he said to refocus the conversation.

“Yeah,” Khadgar said, still a little out of breath from his giggles. “I guess it’s reassuring that we’ve managed to keep that a secret from you. Or actually really damn worrying. Did you really think you were killing all those vampires you shot?”

Lothar frowned. “I wasn’t?”

Khadgar made a face. “No. You merely slowed them down for a few days, but ultimately, what you’re doing is force them to drink more blood so they can regenerate faster. It also helps to be stronger and faster, which is something I value when going against other hyped up vampires. So really, you’ve been encouraging all of us to drink more.”

Lothar was still frowning, a hard line digging into his forehead as he thought about it. Surely, he would have known if the vampires just sprang back up after being shot… right? He wasn’t part of the clean-up team but someone had to be responsible for picking up the bodies. They would’ve said something if they always arrived at the scene and found no one. But Khadgar would be the most likely to know about these things, being a vampire himself. 

This whole thing just didn’t make any sense. The more he thought about it, the more Lothar felt himself falling down a spiral and he was getting nauseous.

“Are you serious?” he asked Khadgar.

A flash of something like pity crossed Khadgar’s gaze and Lothar had to hold back his anger. Khadgar nodded slowly, looking more sarcastic now than anything else - Lothar preferred it that way.

“We’re idiots,” he said.

Khadgar snorted. “No. You were doing your best. But yes… things have to change. Vampires are always going to crave blood, and the ones you go after are like junkies, addicted to the stuff - wounding them is only driving them crazier. Perhaps you’ve noticed but they’re getting more and more aggressive and more reckless lately.”

“I did,” Lothar sighed.

“What you and all the supers do is basically just… throwing oil into a blazing fire.”

“But you also drink blood?” Lothar asked to make sure.

Khadgar grimaced. He went back to worrying the loose thread in his trouser leg and Lothar followed the movement, staring at his long skeletal fingers.

“I draw the line at fresh human blood,” Khadgar admitted. “I would never attack anyone ever again. So we’ve set up a system. Ever once in a while, one of us will go take some bags from a blood bank or a hospital, and share it with the rest. It’s enough to keep us going while we…” Khadgar stopped himself and looked up suddenly at Lothar.

Lothar’s eyes widened.

“Is that why you were at the hospital the other night?”

Khadgar winced.

“Yeah,” he said. “Fighting can take a lot out of me and I needed a drink, so I figured…”

“But that’s extremely dangerous!” Lothar exclaimed. “Why would you do that, just walk into a place crawling with supers and cops? What if someone had seen you?”

Khadgar rolled his eyes.

“Hospitals are actually easier to get blood from then blood banks, you know,” he said, not looking at Lothar but instead seeming extremely interested in the rapidly forming hole in his trousers. “There’s always all kinds of people there and no one really asks you questions about what you’re doing there. But they’ve increased security in the city’s blood banks which makes it harder for us to… well.”

“Steal blood,” Lothar completed.

Khadgar winced again. “Well, not exactly…”

“It’s exactly that. Theft. A _crime_.”

Khadgar frowned, features hardening.

“Oh, so you would prefer I go and find some hapless victim in a bar somewhere, suck them dry or - even better yet: turn them?”

Lothar gaped for a second and then sighed. He scooted back into his seat, carefully leaning back, and massaged his temples with his thumbs.

“No, of course not.”

“Good,” Khadgar said, “because it’s not like I actually have a choice. You keep getting yourself into trouble and I keep needing to save you, putting my own life on the line.”

“I never asked for your help.”

Khadgar raised an eyebrow and scoffed.

“Oh, I’m sorry, next time I’ll let you get killed, for sure.”

Lothar smirked.

“You better,” he joked.

Khadgar shook his head while smiling.

“So,” Lothar said, “anything else I should know about vampires?”

Khadgar looked at him curiously. “Like what?”

“Like how to actually kill them.”

Khadgar’s head snapped up and his eyes bore into Lothar’s. Lothar held his gaze unwaveringly. Khadgar’s features were unreadable, but Lothar knew a challenge when he saw one, and Khadgar was definitely looking for something in him that Lothar was more than willing to give him. But this went both ways: if Khadgar wanted Lothar to trust him, then he needed Khadgar to trust _him_ and that meant revealing his worst weakness.

“Okay,” Khadgar said. “But first I’m curious. What do you think would work?”

Lothar smiled but figured this was a game he could play.

“Wooden stake through the heart,” he guessed.

It was something out of old fashioned vampire novels but if the saying was true, then whatever fiction had a basis in reality.

Khadgar smiled wryly. “No. It’ll hurt, don’t get me wrong - and I do have to say, vampires have a flair for the dramatic, so they’ll act like they’re dying, and then most likely they’ll just pull it out and laugh at you.”

Lothar hummed. “Beheading?”

“I’m pretty sure that anyone would die from that, Lothar,” Khadgar jibed. “And I’d like to see you try to behead one of these motherfuckers.”

He chuckled. “Fair enough.” He thought for a minute before venturing: “Silver bullets?”

“What?” Khadgar said. “Come on, Lothar, those are for werewolves!”

“Shit,” Lothar gasped. “Do werewolves exist?”

Khadgar waggled his eyebrows, a twinkle in his eyes. Lothar chuckled and it seemed to release all the tension in his body. Soon he found himself laughing harder and harder and he couldn’t stop. He held his sides with his hands and threw his head backwards, resting on the couch. It had been a while since he had laughed and though it awakened the pain on his back, he revelled in it. As he was laughing however, he was suddenly hit with the realization of how bizarre it was that he could feel so comfortable in the presence of a _vampire_ to let himself go like this, and it cut his laughter short. He quickly talked so as to hide his sudden unease.

“No, really, do they?”

Khadgar scoffed. “How the hell would I know? If they do and are hiding, I don’t blame them. It hasn’t exactly benefitted vampires so far.”

Lothar clicked his tongue and winced. “Right. Speaking of vampires, please tell me there’s a way to kill them and you’ve found it.”

Khadgar nodded excitedly as his eyes widened. He scooted forward on his seat, hands finally falling still, flat on his thighs, as he started talking fast. 

“Through trial and error, yes-”

He interrupted himself, eyes suddenly glazing over and his head tilting. Lothar held his breath in anticipation. Seconds later, there was a knock at the door. They both swivelled around, towards the door. Lothar looked at Khadgar, eyebrows raising.

“Expecting anyone?” he asked gloomily.

Khadgar shook his head, features hardening.

He stood up and, moving quietly, picked up his gun. Lothar’s heart was beating fast and loud in his ears as Khadgar neared the door and looked through the spyhole. 

And then the door burst open.


	6. Chapter 6

###### Scene 6

Khadgar raised his arms in defense just in time, as the intruder kicked him and sent him flying through the room. Khadgar’s back hit the wall and he cried out in pain. Lothar jumped to his feet, wanting to rush to his side, but Khadgar was already recovering and assuming a fighting stance. Lothar turned around to face their attackers.

There were four of them, with red eyes blazing and their long teeth glistening. The difference between them and Khadgar was striking - they barely looked humanoid anymore. Lothar didn’t have the luxury to observe them any more, however, as they leapt forward, claws aimed at his throat.

Khadgar surged to shield him. Lothar screamed.

“No!”

The first vampire clawed at Khadgar’s chest. Blood spurted out and stained the vampire’s face. Lothar growled instinctively, attracting the vampires’ attention.

“Oh no,” he gasped.

The vampires pounced.

Lothar ran and hid behind the couch, which took the brunt of the assault. Lothar’s eyes widened as he heard one of the vampire growl in frustration and proceed to rip the cushions to pieces.

“Hey!” Khadgar yelled. In his hand, he held Lothar’s army knife, comically tiny. His face had transformed, teeth elongating, eyes blazing. Two of the vampires turned around to face him and hissed. Khadgar hissed right back.

When they attacked, they moved so fast that Lothar could no longer follow their movements. Instead, he turned his attention back to the couch, on which the two vampires were staring at him, foaming at the mouth. Lothar gulped.

He crouched down just in time to avoid the first lunging attack, and he heard the vampire hit the wall behind him. He ran, keeping his voice down. He was weaponless and had a huge disadvantage: he was only human. He swivelled around to see one vampire shaking his head clear while the other slowly discarded the abused cushion and turned his attention to him.

He looked around, desperate to find a weapon of any kind. His eyes fell on the table wherein laid Khadgar’s weird gun. Lothar’s eyes widened as he saw it. With a glance towards the vampires, who were watching him, waiting to pounce, Lothar lunged for the gun. The couch vampire followed, mouth wide opened, and tore a piece of his arm out.

Lothar yelled. Blinking through the pain, he kicked at his opponent, successfully pushing him off. Lothar crawled away and propped his back against a chair. The vampires were getting closer and closer, walking slowly, knowing they had him cornered. He gritted his teeth and ignored the pain coming from his arm as he looked at the gun. There were more switches than on a usual gun, but the system seemed similar enough. One glance at the hovering vampires made up his decision.

He flicked the switches, feeling the weapon burst alive, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

A rush of fire escaped the mouth, engulfing the two monsters. Their screams deafened Lothar momentarily. They crumbled to the floor where they writhed. Their black shape against the blazing fire struggled and started decomposing. When their screams finally stopped, Lothar eased his finger off the trigger and the fire died down immediately. He quickly flicked the switches off again and gaped. The vampires had been turned to ash.

A grunt and a hiss to his right snapped Lothar out of his awe.

Khadgar was still standing, facing the two vampires. Though he more than held his own against them, if the numerous bleeding wounds on both the attacking vampires are any proof, he still looked like he was struggling. The gaping hole in his chest still oozed blood-like liquid and even if his movements were still superhumanly fast, Lothar could tell he was slowing down.

Lothar struggled to get up on his knees, using the armchair as support. His left arm was all but dead weight now, so he propped the flamethrower on the arm of the chair.

“Khadgar!” he called out.

His head swivelled and their eyes met. Khadgar’s eyes widened as he took sight of the gun. He smiled as he realized what Lothar intended to do. But the split second he looked away from his opponents was all they needed - one latched itself to Khadgar’s shoulders while the other grabbed his arm and pulled. Khadgar howled and lashed out. With a powerful thrust backwards, he sent one opponent into the wall. He bit the hand holding his arm and ripped half of the skin off it. The vampire let go and Khadgar did not waste a second. He rushed out of the way so that it was clear.

Lothar aimed as well as he could, flicked the switches, and fired.

The vampires combusted. The minute it took for them to be completely eradicated was one of the longest of his life. When it was over, he flicked the flamethrower off and let it drop to the floor. He laid his feverish forehead on the armchair and panted. The silence was blood-curling after the horrible screams of the dying vampires. 

A sound to his left made him turn his head towards Khadgar. Their gazes crossed and Lothar smirked. Khadgar’s answering smile was weak but there.

Khadgar swayed. Lothar felt the blood rush to his head. He painfully stood up and ran to Khadgar’s sides, ready to catch him should he fall. But Khadgar raised a hand, stopping him before he could reach him.

“I’m fine,” Khadgar said, moving away and towards the couch. “I just need…”

He hit the floor with a hard thump.

“Khadgar! You idiot,” he muttered as he fell to his knees next to Khadgar’s exsanguinous body. “Just like a drug, my ass…”

He slapped Khadgar’s face a few times, trying to bring some life back to him. He groaned, head lolling to one side then the next. His eyes flickered underneath his eyelids. But he did not wake. Dark, dark blood was pooling on the floor under him, dripping from his wounds.

Lothar cursed. He got up to his feet, talking aloud to himself.

"Ok, alright, blood. Blood. Where would I store blood," he turned on himself a few times, taking in the small flat around him. "The fridge! Right?"

He rushed to the kitchen, throwing the door to the fridge wide open.

It was entirely empty.

"Fuck!"

He should have expected Khadgar not to have any stock - he must already have felt so guilty about drinking the blood, he wouldn't take more than what he needed at the moment. But then, Lothar decided to waltz straight into the most dangerous place and got attacked, and Khadgar had to save him, and they both attracted attention to themselves, which was why they'd stormed Khadgar's place in the first place.

Through his panic-filled mind, one terrifying thought formed. _What if vampires actually die from blood withdrawal?_

He turned around and saw that Khadgar was slowly awakening. He rushed and kneeled near him, stopping him from trying to stand up.

"Khadgar," he said, "can you hear me? You're bleeding. I need you to tell me what to do."

Khadgar mumbled but it was unintelligible. Lothar sighed. He looked around one last time, raking his mind for any solution. But he couldn't think of any - other than…

Looking back at Khadgar, he braced himself.

"You better not make me regret this," he whispered, even though he could not hear him. 

With a grimace, he prodded at the wound in his arm, coating his fingers with fresh blood. He smeared it over his forearm. Then, he held it right under Khadgar's nose.

"This better work. Come on, you idiot-"

Khadgar's eyes shot open. They were two shining red orbs and they subjugated him. Khadgar’s canines had lengthened incredibly, glistening with spit. They swiftly sunk into the skin of Lothar’s arm.

Lothar gasped but clenched his jaw and kept his arm still. When Khadgar closed his lips and started sucking, he could feel his blood rushing out of him and into his mouth. It was the strangest feeling he had ever experienced. It felt -

Good.

Lothar watched in awe as Khadgar’s cheeks filled with the fresh blood, turning a healthy pink. All his visibles wounds were closing as if they had never even been inflicted. He looked better than Lothar had ever seen him before.

Still Khadgar kept sucking. Small shots of pain started emanating from where his fangs had sunk into Lothar’s flesh and Lothar groaned. His vision began to blur and he struggled to keep his eyes opened.

“Khad-Khadgar!”

He tried pulling him arm free but his grip was too strong. Panic filled him even as his brain fogged up, numb with pain. He didn’t even feel his head connecting with the hard floor.


	7. Chapter 7

###### Scene 7

Khadgar blinked. Something was wrong. He couldn’t quite remember what had just happened but he could feel that something was wrong. He had been fighting… And Lothar had fired the flamethrower. And then - 

He looked around, and saw Lothar lying on the floor next to him, unconscious. He looked deadly pale and his breathing was laboured.

“Oh fuck,” Khadgar said. 

He jumped to his feet and paused. _That_ was what was wrong! He felt - good. Strong. Healthy. Too much so.

With horror, he turned and looked at Lothar. His eyes immediately went for the neck but, apart from where the vampire had wounded him earlier, it was clean. Confused, Khadgar crouched next to him and examined him. He finally found the two tiny holes in his forearm, almost invisible. Khadgar cursed.

“What have you done,” he muttered.

He wished Lothar was conscious so he could shake him for his foolishness. He slipped his arms underneath Lothar’s body and lifted him as he straightened up. He carried him over to the couch as if he didn’t weigh anything. He groaned as he saw what had occurred to the cushions and instead made his way to the bed. He gently laid Lothar on it.

He ripped the shirt so he could remove it from Lothar and discarded it. He examined the wound on his arm. It would probably need stitches but Khadgar had neither the skills not the supplies for that. He slipped into the bathroom to get some bandages. He picked up the antiseptic from the living area. He cleaned the wound as best as he could and then wrapped it tightly.

He laid a hand on Lothar's chest and felt the fluttering of his heart. His breathing had considerably eased but he was still unconscious. Worry made Khadgar's brow furrow. 

What exactly had happened? Obviously, Khadgar had drunk his blood, but how, and why… He didn’t remember a thing. Surely he couldn’t have become so blinded by his thirst so that he completely lost control… And then, if that was true, had he drunk too much? Would Lothar recover?

Khadgar hid his face in his hands, sighing heavily. He had been doing so good… He hadn’t had fresh human blood for months. He had forgotten how good it made him feel. He stared at his hands, so steady, so strong.

He had known the vampires who had attacked them. They had been his friends once - or the closest thing to friends that a vampire could get. Colleagues. And now, they were dead.

He hadn’t expected anyone to target his apartment and he hadn’t been ready. No one was supposed to know where he lived. There was only one explanation and it was one that he was having trouble believing in. Thinking it safe, he hadn’t stocked up on blood and hadn’t had a drink in days. He wasn’t as strong as he should have been and the many wounds on Lothar’s body were proof of that. He never should have let this happen. 

In comparison, his body was as healthy as it ever had been. He could feel the strength in his newly healed limbs, could feel his blood sing in his veins, and yet, he could also recognize that he wanted _more_. Lothar was lying here, right in front of him, unconscious - helpless. 

What was he thinking?

Lothar was a human - and Khadgar did not drink from humans, not anymore. It was wrong and he didn’t need it, so he had given it up months ago. He was determined to be different, to be better than what he had been. A foolish, merciless killer.

But even as he thought that, his entire being was attuned to the beat of Lothar’s heart. His ears strained to hear it.His nostrils flared and his mouth watered. His eyes were irresistibly drawn to the side of his neck where he could see the tiniest of flicker as the blood pumped through his veins. But above all, he felt how feeble it was.

Lothar was dying.

He needed help - blood, a transfusion. He needed to get to hospital. But how was Khadgar supposed to get him there? Call an ambulance, leave him to be found on a sidewalk? He couldn’t go with him - he would be immediately accused of hurting him. There was no way of hiding his eyes, now.

But who was to say he would be safe once in hospital?

Khadgar had been part of missions to Turn some wounded humans. Victims of rogue vampire attacks, who had been retrieved and sent to hospitals, where doctors would do their best to save them, only for vampires to come in the dead of night and finish what had been started. Khadgar had been groomed to become a Turner. But when the moment came for him to Turn his first victim, he fled. He had abandoned his convent. And now, they were after him. And he had gotten Lothar hurt.

Khadgar’s eyes flickered to Lothar’s neck, dirty and scruffy. Dried blood was smeared on his jaw and his mouth was slightly open, drawing in breath. Khadgar licked his teeth.

_No._ The word resonated in Khadgar’s mind, as loud as if he had spoken it. _He wouldn’t want that._ He bit his lip. _But would he rather die now, like this?_

He sighed and shook his head, knowing the answer. He stared at Lothar for a long while before an idea started growing in his mind. He put two fingers on Lothar’s wrist, feeling the faint _ba-dump_ underneath his fingertips. He held his breath for a few seconds and released it slowly.

He did know someone who might be willing to help. 

He stood up and walked swiftly to the entrance, where he had left his coat. He fished for his cellphone and clicked on the contact number. It only rang twice before it was picked up.

“ _You’re not dead._ ”

Khadgar’s heart quickened. He _knew_?

“Shocker, isn’t it?” Khadgar growled.

“ _I was hoping you weren't._ ”

Khadgar closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

“Medivh,” he said, “I need your help.”

There was a silence before Medivh said: “ _Go on._ ”

Khadgar bit his lip.

“I... “ He sighed. “Lothar was with me. He’s hurt.”

The silence on the other end of the line was one of shock and when Medivh answered, his voice quivered in anger.

“ _What?_ ”

“He needs blood. And I don’t have any anymore.” Khadgar waited then add: “Will you help me?”

Medivh cursed and then: “ _I’m on my way_.” He hung up.

As he waited for Medivh to arrive, Khadgar picked up a t shirt from his own closet and struggled to slip it on Lothar. Despite his superhuman strength, he still could tell how heavy Lothar was. He had already noticed as he was patching him up, but Lothar was quite fit. Distracted, Khadgar traced the well-defined lines of his torso, noticing how plump and healthy the skin was. He started when he suddenly realized what he was doing. Blushing furiously, and glad that Lothar was unconscious, he hurried to finish slipping the shirt on him. Once that was done, he stood up and stared worriedly at the human. 

He hoped he had made the right choice by calling Medivh for help. Medivh had been the one to Turn him, and since then, they had had a close bond. Medivh had taken him in, taught him how to drink just what he needed, not to kill, not to Turn by accident. He had been the only one not to scorn him for his decision to withdraw from the Turners’ convent. He was his Master. And yet, the fact he had known about the plan to attack him tonight, meant he wasn’t as trustworthy as Khadgar had initially thought.

He only wished he would come alone, and not bring in others to finish the job.

He arrived fifteen minutes later, alone, and with a huge bag on his back. He pushed into the flat as soon as Khadgar opened the door and made straight for Lothar’s side. He stopped at the foot of the bed and had a moment when he just stared. Then, he turned and looked at Khadgar.

“I wanted to warn you,” he said without preamble. “But you were gone. I left before I could be seen around your place.”

Khadgar nodded sharply. His worry for Lothar had only grown as he waited for Medivh and he didn’t much care for explanations or apologies right now.

“Have you got what is needed?” he asked.

Medivh placed the bag on the destroyed couch, not commenting, and unzipped it. He pulled out two bags of blood.

“They’re type specific,” Khadgar exclaimed.

“Yes,” Medivh said. “And Anduin is… He’s AB.”

Khadgar nodded slowly. He watched as Medivh took out the rest of the supplies. Then, they relocated near Lothar and got to work, setting the line in Lothar’s arm and hooking up a bag. 

When the transfusion was set up, Khadgar and Medivh found themselves staring at each other. Medivh set a critical eye on him and Khadgar could feel himself flush.

“You’re looking well,” he remarked.

Khadgar scoffed and turned away.

“What, were you expecting any different?”

“Honestly?” Medivh said. “I didn’t think you’d survive the attack. But Lothar’s presence explains it. Also explains why you look so _healthy_.”

Khadgar tensed.

“You’ve drank from him.”

He stayed silent. He heard Medivh sigh.

“They’ll get suspicious when the boys don’t come back. You should move as soon as you’re able. I’ll stall them for as long as I can, but…”

“Yeah,” Khadgar said.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Medivh said, coming in view.

Their gazes crossed. Medivh was as expressionless as Khadgar was used to seeing him. But the tense lines around his eyes expressed the worry that he felt, both for him and for Lothar. Medivh might not have understood Khadgar’s decision but he was the one to open Khadgar’s eyes in the first place. Despite the fact he thought Khadgar was a fool to believe that peace between vampires and humans was possible, he didn’t agree with the vampire supremacists. He had even been the one to direct Khadgar towards Lothar, who had been a friend of his.

While Khadgar appreciated the support, he was still angry at Medivh for not following him. Despite his words, he still went out every night and Turned humans into vampires. He believed that, if any people were Turned, then the humans would have no choice but to accept the vampires’ existence. But for Khadgar, that still didn’t take care of the root of the issue: vampires, accepted or not by society, would always need blood, always _crave_ it, always need to hold themselves back when the need for it grow too strong. And Khadgar couldn’t accept that.

He hoped his gaze conveyed all that to Medivh - the gratefulness, the apology, but also the resentment that he couldn’t voice. Medivh nodded and walked to the front door.

“Be careful,” he said before closing the door behind him.

Khadgar released the breath he had been holding. He closed his eyes for a second. Then, he grabbed the armchair and easily carried it over to the bed. Lothar’s breathing had grown slower and deeper and his heart beat strongly in his chest, filling Khadgar’s ears.

He flopped into the armchair, not taking his eyes off Lothar for a second. Feeling the weariness of the night settling in his bones, he settled for what he suspected would be a long vigil.


	8. Chapter 8

###### Scene 8

Khadgar must have dozed off at some point because he was startled awake when Lothar spoke.

"Fire," he croaked.

“What?” Khadgar muttered.

Lothar coughed and pushed himself up, leaning his back against the headboard.

“Fire,” he said. “It kills vampires.”

Khadgar blinked, awareness coming back to him slowly. Lothar’s words finally registered in his mind and he gaped.

“Yeah, it does.”

“How did you figure it out?” 

“Oh,” Khadgar said. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Well, it’s actually quite simple. I knew that vampires had a different constitution than humans. We’re faster, stronger. And we can heal much faster than you. Almost nothing can actually kill a vampire, short of cutting their head off, of course. So I thought, hey, that has to translate somehow at a molecular level. And it turns out that we have an excess of that one molecule and it’s highly sensitive to heat. So I thought I’d try it out. I modified this gun as a flamethrower but I hadn’t yet had the time to test it, though.”

Lothar was smiling faintly and Khadgar blushed.

“What?”

Lothar shook his head, chuckling. Suddenly, he frowned.

“Wait. You didn’t know it would work?”

Khadgar winced.

“No. I didn’t. It worked though! I was right!”

Lothar laughed and then grimaced.

“I feel like shit. What happened?”

Khadgar looked away.

“You passed out. I had to transfuse you.”

Lothar looked at the bag then his arm. He frowned but slowly his face changed from confusion to recollection. His left hand cradled his right arm to his side.

“I made you drink from me,” he said softly.

Khadgar tensed.

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Why? You were unconscious - you needed the blood. I gave it to you.”

Khadgar stared in Lothar’s eyes, confused. But Lothar’s gaze was unwavering, so clear, so blue. Khadgar’s breath quickened. He hadn’t attacked Lothar? He’d given him his blood… willingly? Disappointment filled his chest and he turned his head to the side.

“Well, then you’re a fool,” he murmured.

Lothar scoffed gently.

“It all turned out alright in the end, didn’t it?”

Khadgar glared daggers at him.

“Alright? _Alright_. You could’ve died. I could’ve drunk you dry. I could’ve killed you.”

Lothar raised an eyebrow, calm, taunting.

“But you didn’t.”

Khadgar groaned and stood up. He walked away and stopped, standing in the middle of the room.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

Silence followed. In Khadgar’s head, worry led the way to anger in a carousel of indecision whose only outer sign was his fists clenching and unclenching. Lothar scoffed.

“What, save your life?”

Khadgar swivelled around, his eyes burning.

“Do you have any idea the kind of danger you put yourself in?” he spat. “First, going around town taunting vampires all over, basically only enraging them further with each strike from you and your little gang.” As Khadgar shouted, Lothar stayed impassive, arms crossed. Khadgar snarled. “And then walking right into a vampires’ nest as if you don’t have a huge target on your chest simply by being _human_ and, of course, you get attacked, and who has to save your ass again? You just keep doing that, and as if you don’t even care if you die! I almost killed you and there would be nothing you could’ve done about it.”

Khadgar stopped, breathing heavily. Lothar waited a few seconds before speaking.

“Are you done?” Lothar asked. Khadgar howled and turned around, throwing his hands up in the air. He stomped to the kitchen and leaned at the counter. he heard Lothar stand up and walk towards him, stopping a safe distance away. “Good. So is this how it is? You get to save me whenever I get myself in trouble but when you do something stupid, I’m supposed to just let you?”

“I can take care of myself,” Khadgar growled.

Lothar snorted. “Obviously. When was the last time you fed?”

Khagar shut his eyes tightly, feeling a wave of shame wash over him.

“I don’t- I don’t know…”

“Three days ago? At the hospital, when you came to see me?”

“No!” Khadgar turned around, his panicked gaze crossing Lothar’s accusatory one. “I wanted to… It’s why I had gone to the hospital in the first place but then, I realized you were there, and I left - I didn’t steal anything that night!”

Lothar’s eyebrows rose. “So longer, then? How long have you spent without drinking? Khadgar, are you out of your mind?”

He chuckled madly, raising a hand to stop Lothar from taking one step more. “You,” he pointed at him. “ _You_ have no idea what it’s like. It’s so hard… to stop myself. But I don’t want to feed anymore. I don’t want to feel like a beast anymore, tracking my prey by scent, waiting in the shadows for the right moment to strike... I don’t want that anymore. And I was doing so _good_ and then you went and- fucked it all up!”

Lothar took a careful step forward, hands outreached. “But, Khadgar. You need the blood. You’ll die without.”

Khadgar grinned. “Don’t pretend that you care. You’d be delighted if every single vampire on the face of planet would drop dead tomorrow.”

Lothar winced. “That’s not true.”

“No?” He laughed. “Right. A super defending vampire rights. Typical.”

Instead of answering him, Lothar sighed and looked away guiltily. 

“Right. So now that that’s established, I think you should leave-”

“You’re right,” Lothar interrupted him. “I shouldn’t care. I’ve spent my whole life fighting you - your kind. Vampires. Ever since,” he breathed in deeply and let it out slowly, trying to calm himself down. Twenty years and it still made his throat close up and his heart squeeze painfully. But he needed to talk about it, needed to make Khadgar listen. “Ever since my wife died. Killed by one of you,” he looked up, staring at him. “So, yes, I hate vampires. But I would be a fool, and an ungrateful one at that, if I refused to trust you after all you’ve done for me.”

Khadgar blinked. His eyes were wet and Lothar’s heart clenched with something less sad and softer.

“You really shouldn’t,” Khadgar said. “I’m not trustworthy. Not to you. Especially not to you.”

Lothar smiled. “And yet, I do trust you. You’ve saved me three times and you’ve never done anything to hurt me. Why shouldn’t I trust you? You’re always here when I need you, though I don’t know how or why.”

Khadgar looked down, wringing his hands.

“I’ve been… following you,” he muttered under his breath.

“Wait, what?”

Khadgar sighed loudly. He raised his hands and shrugged and then let them fall down again.

“I don’t- I’ve been following you,” he said louder. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Lothar repeated inquisitively.

Khadgar groaned. “Yeah, I don’t,” he bit his lip, “I was curious. OK? I had heard about you - who hasn’t, honestly - and then, that one night, at the house? You burst in and… You saved me that night. And afterwards, when you realized what I was, you could’ve killed me. But you didn’t.”

Lothar nodded, memories from that night flooding his brain. A vampire had been threatening Khadgar when Lothar had made his entrance. He’d escaped before Lothar had been able to reach him. And then, Khadgar had been wounded, and Lothar _had_ indeed thought about killing him, for a second there, but it had been instinct, reflex. Khadgar had gone before he’d been able to ask him anything.

“So,” Khadgar kept on, “I decided to follow you. And I don’t regret it, because you would’ve died. Because you’re a right fool, you know that?”

Lothar laughed. “Yeah, I’m starting to get that.”

Khadgar smiled wryly. He turned somber quickly, though. “But that doesn’t mean you can trust me.”

Lothar frowned. He took one step forward but stopped when he saw Khadgar recoiling and plastering himself to the counter behind him.

“Why not?” he asked softly.

Khadgar rolled his eyes. “Because,” he said harshly, “even now I can hear your heart beating and I want nothing more than to sink my teeth in your neck.”

There was a silence. Lothar stared at him, eyes wide in shock, and Khadgar closed his eyes, feeling the shame and the guilt climb in him.

“Do you,” he said but had to wet his lips before continuing, “do you need more?”

Khadgar’s eyes shot open. “No!” he exclaimed, at the same time that his entire body jerked and screamed _Yes!_

“It’s alright,” Lothar said, slowly approaching.

Khadgar shook his head, whispering, “no, no, no, no.”

“Shh,” Lothar did.

With one hand still outstretched in front of him, he used the other to pull his shirt collar, exposing his neck.

“It’s purer in the neck, isn’t it?” he asked, but Khadgar barely heard the words.

His wide-opened eyes were fixed on Lothar’s neck, his ears attuned to the beat of his heart. All of a sudden, the smell, that he’d been trying to ignore ever since meeting Lothar in the street, hit his nostrils and he gulped it down, letting it overwhelm his senses.

“Go ahead,” Lothar whispered. “I trust you.”

Khadgar hissed at him but it did nothing to deter him. He kept inching closer and closer, and Khadgar knew he wouldn’t be able to hold off for much longer if he kept on like this.

“I trust you, Khadgar.”

“Lothar, please, don’t-”

He stepped even closer, his scent invading Khadgar’s nose. It was maddening. This close to him, all Khadgar could hear was the rush of the blood through his veins. His mouth watered at the simple memory of his taste and his teeth elongated on their own. He snarled and turned his head to the side, trying to escape it. Lothar grabbed his chin and forced him to look at him.

“Do it,” he whispered.

Tears stung Khadgar’s eyes as he stared at Lothar, either begging or apologizing, not even him could tell anymore. He could feel his control slipping from his grasp, the taste and scent of Lothar completely overwhelming him. But it’s Lothar that convinced him in the end: not looking away for one second, he cupped his neck and guided him closer to his jumping carotid, until Khadgar gave in. Eyes slipping shut, he opened his mouth, spit drooling down his chin.

At first, the skin resisted the pressure from his teeth, but then the sharp canines bit into the skin and tore it. Immediately, Khadgar was assaulted by the smell of the fresh blood. He moaned and sank his teeth even deeper. Lothar groaned in pain but Khadgar did not pay it any mind. He closed his lips around the fresh wound and sucked, swallowing the blood in big gulps. He could feel the blood travel down his throat and into his stomach, being processed almost immediately, and the power coursing through his own veins.

Meanwhile, the anesthetic was slowly numbing Lothar, invading his brain. He tried to fight it, hands grasping at Khadgar’s arms, but it was no use. His vision turned blurry and his thoughts slurred as the pain was replaced by a strange, detached sort of pleasure. 

“Khadgar,” he managed to gasp.

But the vampire kept sucking. Lothar’s eyes widened. He could feel his blood leaving him and knew that he should be fighting this, should be panicking right now, but it all felt too surreal. He felt as if he was sinking and his eyes closed on their own.

_No…_

Khadgar started and stopped sucking. Slowly, he pulled away, teeth exiting the soft skin. It took all of his will power to do so. He licked at the wound, chasing the very last drops of blood. He hummed as the taste filled his mouth once more and he had to tear himself away from Lothar’s neck before he gave him a hickey. He smiled elatedly as he threw his head back and looked at Lothar

Noticing the glazed look in his eyes, he winced apologetically. Cupping his face, he leaned and whispered, the words infused with will-bending power without him even trying.

“Wake up, Lothar.”

Lothar blinked. Awareness came back to him in one strong wave and he was left feeling light-headed and strung out. He shook his head to regain focus and when he did, he was met with Khadgar’s worried gaze.

“Alright?” Khadgar asked, voice low and strong.

Lothar shuddered and nodded silently. Khadgar smiled.

“Good.”

All he could do was smile weakly in return. They were standing very close to one another, Lothar’s hands still on Khadgar’s arms, and Khadgar’s hands on his cheeks. Lothar meant to step back but he stumbled and Khadgar wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him up as if he weighed nothing. Lothar’s eyes widened.

“Easy,” Khadgar murmured. “Lothar?”

His brilliant red eyes bore into him but instead of the fear they instigated in him every time, they thrilled him. Licking his lips, Lothar took in Khadgar’s features as if he was seeing them for the first time: his bushy eyebrows, his moustache and scruff, his unkempt hair, his flushed cheeks. His red eyes are mesmerizing and he finds himself leaning in.

“Oh, dear, Lothar!” Khadgar exclaims, hands going up to catch Lothar as he falls forward, head into the crook of his neck. “I am so sorry - see what I meant? You can barely stand!”

He helped him over to the armchair and sat him down. He rushed to the bedroom and gathered the transfusion supply. When he got back to Lothar’s side however, he was already looking much pinker and his eyes were alert. He flushed bright red when he crossed Khadgar’s gaze and he held a hand up to stop him.

“No, I don’t need it,” he said. “Thanks.”

Khadgar sighed and sat down heavily on the couch. He glared at Lothar.

“That was very stupid.”

Lothar smirked.

“You stopped yourself didn’t you?”

Khadgar frowned. “Yes… but barely.”

Lothar shook his head, smiling.

“Seems like I’ve got more faith in you than yourself.”

Khadgar was spared answering by a phone suddenly going off. They both jumped to their feet, Khadgar’s arms immediately going out to steady Lothar. But he was already rushing to the couch, grabbing his coat and frantically searching its pockets. He pulled out his phone and answered it breathlessly.

“Hello?”

Khadgar did not recognize the voice but he could hear the words clearly.

“ _Anduin_ ” the voice sobbed.

“Taria?” Lothar gasped. “What is it, what’s going on?”

“ _I’m so sorry, Anduin. We didn’t get there fast enough._ "

“What are you talking about?”

Lothar’s face was white as a sheet and his voice trembled.

“ _It’s Callan. You need to get to the hospital right away. He’s hurt. He’s very badly hurt, oh God, Anduin, I’m so sorry…_ ”

Lothar’s eyes widened and he staggered. Khadgar steadied him and Lothar immediately put a hand on his shoulder for support.

“What is it?” Khadgar asked after Lothar had hung up, too shocked to even say a word to Taria. “Who is hurt?”

Lothar’s eyes focused on him and Khadgar was taken aback to see they had filled with tears.

“Callan,” he whispered. “My son.”


	9. Chapter 9

###### Scene 9

“Callan. My son…”

Khadgar squeezed Lothar’s arm compassionately.

“What hospital is he at? I’ll bring you there. We’ll take my car.”

Lothar nodded wordlessly, unable to express what he was currently feeling. Khadgar helped him put his coat on. He threw his own on his shoulders, forgetting the sleeves.

"Come on," he said as he grabbed his keys.

He had parked his car a couple of blocks away to cover his tracks. They rode in silence, Khadgar sneaking worried looks in Lothar's direction. He was looking out of the window, at the rain that fell on the dark streets. It was that strange time of night that lamplights were turned off, the time no one should be out. 

The hospital, for once, was eerily silent. Khadgar almost wished it would be total chaos as they walked swiftly through the ER halls. Maybe it would distract them from the terrible reality that they’re soon faced with: Callan, white as the sheet he was lying on, transfusion and saline bag hanging behind him. The room was dark and empty save for a woman sitting by the bed, holding the young man’s hand in hers. She turned when she heard the door swing open.

Lothar took two steps inside and stopped, his entire body trembling. Taria’s eyes widened and filled with tears. She stood up and rushed to his side, wrapping her arms around him. He didn’t react at all.

Khadgar stayed at the threshold, observing a respectful silence. He could sense Callan’s slow heartbeat, hear his laboured breathing, follow the stilted route of his blood through his veins. It all converged to one spot that felt like a throb Khadgar could sense in the very air around him. He gasped but, still, remained in his place.

“What happened,” Lothar asked, lifeless.

Taria pulled away and she looked so sorry.

“They broke into your home. Callan was there - we had gotten a call beforehand - anonymous. We didn’t get here in time though. We tried,” she sobbed, “we tried calling you but you wouldn’t answer. We arrived and Callan was - he was-”

She couldn’t finish her sentence, the tears overwhelming her. Lothar pulled her close again and she buried her face in his chest.

“Vampires,” Lothar whispered. He didn’t even sound angry - just heartbroken, and it moved Khadgar to tears. 

He slipped out the door silently. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. It was hard being in such an open place - his senses were exacerbated, adrenaline rushed through him. Every single noise made him jump. He breathed in and out, trying to calm his nerves. He should just leave, he thought. Lothar didn't need him anymore, he had done everything he could by bringing him to hospital. The best thing for him now was to disappear back into the dark.

He was startled when a hand was laid on his arms and a voice rose, too close.

"Hey."

He hissed in reflex, forgetting himself. Lothar's sister's eyes widened and she grabbed a knife in her pocket, holding it threateningly between them. Khadgar cursed, took a step back and raised his hands.

"No, please," he sighed. "I'm not here to hurt anyone. I swear."

Taria’s eyes were still wide, skin livid, and her hand did not tremble. But she did not attack him.

“I will leave. I don’t want trouble.”

She slowly lowered her weapon. Khadgar’s shoulders sagged in relief. He moved backwards away from her.

“Wait,” she said.

He stopped and looked at her in surprise. She was still tense but there was a new weariness to her that intrigued him.

“You’re the one who saved his life.”

“He’s told you?”

Taria nodded slowly. “He’s my brother.”

Khadgar nodded in turn, understanding exactly what she meant.

“Look,” she said, “I don’t know why you did this. But I want to thank you. I know he probably hasn’t.”

Khadgar smiled wryly. “No need to thank me.”

“He wouldn’t be alive without you,” Taria smiled.

Khadgar looked down at his feet, accepting her gratefulness.

"Listen,” Taria said. When Khadgar looked up, she had already looked away, gazing into the window into the hospital room. “Would you… stay with him?”

Khadgar winced momentarily and immediately smoothed out his expression. “I don’t know if I should,” he answered.

Taria looked at him, all wariness gone and replaced by a deep tiredness that Khadgar could only feel sorry for her about.

“Please,” she said quietly.

He sighed. “Okay.”

The room was silent except for the steady beeping of the machines and their quiet whirr. Khadgar let the door close behind him but stayed near it, not knowing if his presence was wanted or not. Lothar turned away from his son’s side just enough so as to see who had entered. He didn’t react when he saw it was Khadgar.

He was sitting on a stool, elbows on his knees, hands hanging limply.

“He’s going to die,” he said eventually.

Khadgar breathed out loudly. “Yes.”

Silence followed, heavy and uncomfortable. Khadgar approached Lothar slowly and tentatively laid a hand on his shoulder. He stared at Callan’s pale face, his chapped lips, his sunken cheeks. The loss of blood and the poison were acting fast.

“He doesn’t have to,” Khadgar whispered.

He felt Lothar tense under his hand. He turned his head sharply to look at him. Khadgar kept staring at the boy.

“What are you saying.”

Lothar’s voice quivered. Khadgar cleared his throat and moved away, going around the bed so he stood opposite Lothar. He crossed his gaze, wide-eyed and confused. He hardened his own gaze, refusing to let pity and compassion tint his voice.

“You know what I mean.”

Lothar let out a short disbelieving laugh and Khadgar closed his eyes, flinching.

“ _Turn_ him?” Lothar asked with a sob.

Not looking at him, Khadgar instead gazed at the dying man. Without focusing on it, he could hear his heartbeat slowing down, almost imperceptibly. The rapidly thickening blood struggled to get through the tiny vessels and properly irrigate the body. Even after this long, doctors had found no way to stop the infection from spreading. Softly, Khadgar reached out to Callan and stroked his cheek, so cold even to his own touch.

“Yes,” he said simply.

Lothar growled and slapped his hand away from his son. Khadgar glared at him, challenging, but immediately softened his gaze in the face of Lothar’s despair.

“Turn him into a monster. Turn him into one of _you_. Do you have any idea what you’re saying? Of course you do. You know what it is like. To never see the light of the sun ever again. He would need to kill just to survive. Cursed, to live forever, a slave to his own inhuman needs. To never die. How could I condemn my own son to this life?”

“He would be alive.”

Lothar snarled.

“At what cost? The loss of his humanity, of his free will. And what kind of life? Roaming the streets at night, like a hungry dog, hated and hunted by all of humankind. Tell me, Khadgar, what is so great about a life like that.”

Khadgar stared at him, doing his best to stay calm in face of Lothar’s ire, knowing he wouldn’t serve his cause by getting angry in turn.

“I won’t let you do this,” Anduin added. “Not to him. Not to me.”

“Would you rather he dies?”

Lothar sobbed, a single, wet sound that made Khadgar wince. Lothar closed his eyes tightly and his face scrunched up in a pained expression.

“Don’t do this to me.”

He turned away, heading for the door. Khadgar followed him and reached for him.

“Lothar-”

“Don’t touch me!”

Angry tears glistened in his eyes. Before Khadgar could say anything else, he had stormed off.

Taria, who had been waiting outside the door, turned around and widened her eyes at Khadgar. He shrugged helplessly.

“Damn it,” she said.

She rushed after her brother, leaving Khadgar alone. A rasp made him turn around. Callan’s breathing was worsening. He stepped closer and laid a hand on his forehead, hoping that somehow his presence would soothe his suffering.

“Sh, it’s alright,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.”

“Khadgar.”

He froze. The voice had come from his left where he could see a shape in the shadows, undetected by him until they’d spoken. Khadgar cursed himself mentally.

Medivh stepped into view. He was followed by three other people, all whom Khadgar recognized, and he grew somber.

“What are you doing here?”

“Khadgar,” Medivh growled. “Don’t interfere.”

“Or what?”

Medivh surged, claws at the ready. Khadgar ducked around his arm and launched himself forward, pushing Medivh away. They fell to the ground and tumbled. Something crashed loudly to the ground. They were back to their feet in a second.

The three other vampires - he couldn’t remember their names - placed themselves behind Khadgar. He was surrounded. He hissed.

“Feisty,” Medivh snarled. “And strong. How did he taste?”

He didn’t wait for Khadgar’s answer and attacked. Khadgar shielded his face with his arms and Medivh’s claws cut deeply into his skin. He cried out in pain. Hands grabbed him from behind and pulled him back. Two vampires slammed him against the wall and held him in place.

“How did he react when he realized you’d bit him? Did it scare him? Disgust him?”

As Medivh spoke, he dragged one long claw down Khadgar’s cheek. He shivered as the nail scratched his skin, drawing fresh blood. Medivh brought his finger to his mouth and smiled. He licked the blood off slowly, tongue slipping out in between two very sharp teeth.

Khadgar thrashed against the vampires’ hold, not trying to break it but only to test their strength. They were Medivh’s men so they wouldn’t have drank fresh human blood but they might’ve had stopped by the blood bank on their way here. They struggled to keep him in place, confirming what he expected: they were no match for him. He settled down and glared at Medivh. He knew he couldn’t have fooled him into thinking the vampires had him secured but maybe he could still surprise them.

“Fuck you,” he spat out. “What the fuck, Medivh? What are you doing?”

Medivh glowered at him. He turned around and stepped closer to the hospital bed. He reached for Callan but didn’t quite touch him.

“What must be done,” he said.

Khadgar snorted.

“Bullshit.”

“You would think so,” the vampire to his right hissed. “Traitor.”

He snarled at him and, with a strong push, broke free from his weak hold. He punched him right in the nose. The vampire went flying backwards, crashing against the double doors. Immediately, the other one was on him. Khadgar put his elbow in his stomach, swiveled around and sent his fist upwards on his jaw. The vampire stumbled backwards. Khadgar kicked him and he went down.

The third vampire was standing, tensed and undecisive. He shot a glance at Medivh, who was staring at Khadgar.

“Don’t do this, Khadgar. I won’t ask you again.”

“This isn’t what he wanted,” Khadgar said. “Lothar doesn’t want it.”

He stepped closer but Medivh was faster. He kicked and punched him so quickly that Khadgar couldn’t react in time. His back hit the wall and he groaned. He blinked in shock.

“You’ve fed,” he panted.

Medivh sighed. He rolled up his sleeves and rolled his back.

“Yes,” he said plainly.

Khadgar reeled.

“Who?”

Had he attacked someone? He wouldn’t have, Khadgar immediately thought. Would he…?

He didn’t have the time to wonder about it more - the third vampire moved closer and, without warning, punched him in the gut. Khadgar wheezed but recovered quickly. He threw his fist at the vampire, breaking his jaw, grabbed his arm and twisted it. The vampire whimpered. Khadgar drew his claws and caught his enemy’s throat. He pressed the tip of them just barely against the flesh, ready to slit. He turned so he was facing Medivh.

The older vampire was looking at them, disinterested. 

“Get away from the boy,” he snarled.

“Or what? You’ll kill him?” Medivh scoffed. “Please.”

Khadgar hesitated. That was a mistake. As he was entirely focused on Medivh, he hadn’t realized the two vampires coming back to their senses. They had gotten back up and crept up on him. One swept his legs from under him. Khadgar fell, having to release his hold on his enemy. He curled on himself to protect himself against any kick. They weren’t long to come. All three vampires started kicking him from all sides and he whimpered. He couldn’t get back up.

The next few minutes were a confusing mix of pain and the strain of his body struggling to heal the wounds as soon as they occurred. Khadgar whined as the skin on his back was torn and his ribs broken. Eventually, the hits relented and he was left to shiver pathetically on the floor. His brain was fogging up, the pain overwhelming his senses.

“Leave him be,” Khadgar heard through the veil.

Then, the world turned black.

When he awoke, he was being dragged upward, soft hands under his arms. taria’s face was crunched up in worry as she looked at him. 

She was handling him carefully, mindful of his injuries. He groaned. Despite his rapid healing, his ribs were still hurting and he was sure his chest and back were marred with bruising. Panic suddenly coming back to him, he scrambled to his feet and looked around the room. He spotted Lothar standing near the hospital bed. Khadgar gasped his name.

“Who did this?” Lothar asked, voice filled with barely controlled and stifled anger. 

He turned around and crossed Khadgar’s gaze. His mouth was set in a hard line, his jaw tensed, and his eyes were burning with fury. Khadgar understood as he took in the rest of the room. Apart from Lothar and Taria, no one was here. The vampires had gone. Khadgar wondered how long he had stayed unconscious but that didn’t change the situation. 

The bed was empty.


	10. Scene 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had a lot of work to do and no time at all to write which explains why this chapter is so late. I've not been getting any feedback anyway, but if anyone is reading this, I do apologize, and hope you'll like this chapter.

###### Scene 10

The windows of the house were dark, gaping holes. It was still dark out and Khadgar sighed. He sat in the car, watching the front door, ready to jump the second someone went through it. He had been waiting for hours but so far, nothing had happened.

He slumped on his seat, resisting the want to pout. He didn’t get to complain: this had been his idea. He thought about Lothar, who was probably going crazy with the wait, back at the house. Khadgar had stopped him from storming the vampires' lair in the middle of the night, knowing that they would only be stronger. He thought Lothar would tear his head off but he had had to agree, after Taria’s insistence.

He thought back to the events of only a few hours earlier, that had led to him stalking the lair now.

He had been sitting on a chair, watching as Lothar paced in the corridor. If he didn’t stop soon, Khadgar would have to forcibly make him sit down. He was giving him a headache.

The harsh hospital lights were not helping. Still, better than sunlight, Khadgar thought bitterly.

Dawn was still hours ahead but Khadgar wasn’t at ease. He kept his head down, careful that no one see his red eyes, but that didn’t mean no one would figure out he was a vampire. He couldn’t wait until he could get out of here and it didn’t escape him that he didn’t have any reason _not_ to. No reason, except for the one currently pacing in front of him.

He glared wearily at Lothar. He thought about what he could say to him to make him stop, formulating it clearly in his head but didn’t voice it. At least he wasn’t yelling anymore. That had been his first reaction at learning his son had been taken away by none other than Medivh. Khadgar knew they had been friends and Lothar had felt the betrayal as deeply, if not more, as Khadgar himself had. He still didn’t know what to make of the fact Medivh had willingly attacked him, just a few hours after he had helped him with Lothar. He wondered whether he would have acted the same way had the other vampires not been there. He realized how pointless wondering about it was, but he still couldn’t help wanting to come up with excuses for Medivh.

Lothar, on the other hand, was past excuses. As soon as he had learned that Medivh was responsible, he had wanted to run after him to get his son back. Khadgar had not had the heart to tell him that it might already be too late for Callan. More likely than not, the next time father and son saw each other, they would be on opposing sides. But he realized that there was no reasoning with Lothar yet. He was far too furious. Neither Khadgar nor Taria would have been able to stop him, had a nurse not arrived.

She bore news about Llane, Taria’s husband, who was still in a coma after their last hunt. The nurse had been checking on her when she’d noticed something weird. She’d called for a doctor and then immediately went to get Taria.

Lothar and Khadgar had been asked to wait outside the room while Taria spoke with the doctor. They’d been waiting for around thirty minutes when the doctor and Taria stepped out.

Lothar rushed to their side, immediately moving to embrace his sister, while Khadgar watched. 

“I’ll call as soon as the results are in,” he heard the doctor say. He walked away swiftly and Lothar waited until he was out of earshot before asking Taria:

“Are you alright?” Taria nodded. “So what did he say?”

She sighed. “You better just come in. You too, Khadgar.”

He startled but did as asked. The lighting in the room was dimmer. He was shocked at how pale Llane looked, despite the blood transfusion hooked to his arm.

“Why is being transfused?” Lothar asked, confused.

“Look,” Taria said, revealing Llane’s shoulder. There, two tiny, clean punctures could be seen. Their neatness contrasted starkly against the purple and yellow bruises marring his chest.

“Shit,” Khadgar muttered.

“He was bit?” Lothar gaped.

“Yes,” Taria said, choking up. Lothar laid a hand on her shoulder and she leaned into him. “What are we going to do… Now he’ll die, unless he’s Turned.”

“Not necessarily,” Khadgar intervened.

Both humans turned towards him, eyebrows raised. He flushed.

“It’s something we can control. We can feed without killing or poisoning the person.”

He crossed Lothar’s gaze and saw understanding dawn on his face. In the midst of everything, he hadn’t even thought about the consequences of Khadgar feeding on him. Now, though, it seemed like he was relieved. Khadgar could feel his skin get redder and redder and the fact that Lothar’s own blood was making that even possible wasn’t helping. He looked down, breaking eye contact, unable to take it anymore.

“That’s good,” Taria said.

Khadgar cleared his throat. “Yes. But someone did feed on him,” he added, growing somber. “And I think I know who.”

Both Lothars looked at him with creased eyebrows. It only took a few seconds before Anduin gasped.

“Medivh?”

Khadgar nodded. “He had drunk just before coming to get Callan. I knew he would never have attacked a live person. I didn’t think he’d stoop so low as to drink from someone who is unconscious.”

Taria swore loudly, surprising both of them. She gently brushed a hair away from Llane’s forehead, expression torn.

“Neither did I. But we have to come to terms with it: the Medivh we all thought we knew is gone, if he ever did exist.”

Khadgar and Anduin stayed silent. They watched as Taria carefully rearranged Llane’s gown and then tucked him in tightly with the sheet. She then asked, without looking away:

“Khadgar. Will he wake up?”

The vampire felt his eyebrows rise on their own. He licked his lips, thinking.

“Maybe,” he settled on.

He could see the tremor in Taria’s fingers and the sharp intake of breath she then let out slowly. She reigned her emotions in and when she finally turned to stare at him, her face was set with determination.

“Okay boys,” she said. "Ready to raise some hell?"

Khadgar chuckled disbelievingly, but Anduin smirked.

"I thought you'd never ask."

They both turned expectantly towards Khadgar.

He hesitated. He felt Medivh’s betrayal sharply but he still couldn’t forget all that he had done for him. He knew that Medivh believed another way was possible. He had supported Khadgar, protecting him from Gul’dan’s covent. And yet he kept Turning humans, going along with Gul’dan’s plan for supremacy. Eventually, Khadgar made up his mind.

“I know where they went,” Khadgar said.

Maybe he shouldn’t have.

Lothar had wanted to storm the house immediately, intent on getting back his son. Khadgar had not dared point out to him that his son was probably already lost, having been turned into a vampire by Medivh the minute they had been out of the hospital. But, Khadgar thought, maybe it would be a small mercy for a father to be able to lay his own cursed son to rest.

Taria had managed to hold Lothar back. They had gone to her place to wait for dawn while Khadgar took his car and went to watch the house. For the two hours he'd been lying in wait, though, nothing had stirred inside the large mansion.

Khadgar checked his phone for the time. It was nearing six A.M. The sun would soon start rising. Despite popular belief, spread by literature, vampires didn't burn in the sun, but that didn't mean they liked it. They felt weaker and got terrible headaches for staying in the sun for too long. That, along with the rising hatred against their kinds, had led to them turning nocturnal. If it wasn't as dangerous, Khadgar was sure many of his peers would enjoy seeing the daylight again.

He shifted, wincing as he jostled his injured ribs. Lothar, once they had been in the Wrynn's house, had dragged him into a bedroom and offered him more blood but Khadgar had refused.

"I've drank too much from you already. You need time to replenish," he told Lothar.

"I need you at your best later," he insisted. "You're hurt and would heal faster."

Khadgar shook his head and smiled. "I'm still feeling better than I ever could without blood. I'll heal."

Lothar had looked worried but he'd caved in. Khadgar was glad - ever since he'd drank from him for the first time, he had become hyper aware of the man. Everything about him, his movements, his scent, his breaths, would awaken his most primal instinct. He wanted nothing more than to taste him again. He didn't understand it. He'd fed from humans before but they'd never tasted as good as Lothar had. It confused him.

Even now, with several miles separating them, he thought he could hear the vague sound of his heart beat, feel his warm presence, a sort of throb in the distance. It was insane, of course, but it upset him. Khadgar pouted.

He straightened on his seat when he saw movement behind one of the ground floor windows. Alert, he focused all his senses on the house. He had known that people were in it since the moment he had pulled up in front of it. He had half expected someone to come out to greet him - stranger things had happened. But no one had stirred. They seemed to be purposefully keeping quiet and still for half the night. But now, he could follow the person’s path throughout the floor almost as well as if there weren’t any walls.

Human blood really did miracles, he thought.

He heard the jangle of keys before the turn of the lock and then saw the door opened.

Out came Medivh himself. He stopped right outside the door and immediately locked eyes on Khadgar’s car. He sighed.

He got out of the car and leaned against the cold metal, hands in his pocket, staring right at Medivh. There was no use pretending.

Medivh made straight for him and stopped very close in front of him, closer than strictly necessary. When he spoke, he made sure to pitch his voice very low, presumably so no one in the house would hear what they said. Khadgar thought it ridiculous, considering they couldn’t very well hide the fact they’d been talking, but he decided to play along.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again this soon. And looking this good,” Medivh riled.

Khadgar ignored the taunt.

“Why did you do it?” he asked without preamble.

Medivh chuckled, low and dangerous. Khadgar resisted the need to step away from him. He almost couldn’t recognize his mentor anymore. Off him oozed the scent of power and strength, unmistakeable, that had come from him feeding on the unconscious Llane. Khadgar almost couldn’t keep from grimacing in revulsion at the thought.

“You’re a fool, Khadgar. Believing peace between humans and vampires is possible.”

“You believed in it too, once.”

“And I realized my mistake. But I don’t expect you to do the same.”

Khadgar frowned. “Llane?” he felt he needed to ask.

He hadn’t expected Medivh’s reaction: he recoiled, a flash of pain twisting his features, and then grew cold and expressionless at once.

“A necessary evil,” he whispered. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you,” Khadgar lied easily.

“Anduin shun you out? Yell at you to get out of his sight?” Medivh said, in the tone of one who thinks they’ve understood everything left unsaid.

Khadgar shook his head slowly. Dawn was just starting to break.

Medivh laughed, bitter and mean. “How did he react when he woke up, anyway? When he realized you’d fed off him? Was he horrified, repulsed? Was he scared that he was going to turn into one of us? A monster, lurking in the shadows, attacking poor, innocent little humans. That’s what they think about us, you know, Khadgar. They’ll never think anything else.”

“You’re wrong,” Khadgar growled. He was growing annoyed with this conversation and restless as the sky lightened.

Medivh chuckled. “How sweet. You care for him.”

Khadgar raised his eyebrows quizzically. “Where were you hiding all that idiocy for all these years?”

Medivh didn’t have time to answer - Khadgar’s phone began to vibrate ostentatiously.

He excused himself and looked at the caller ID. Lothar.

“ _Are we ready_?”

“I don’t know. Do you have everything?”

“ _Oh yeah._ ”

“Then sure. Come on over,” he said, looking Medivh straight in the eyes.

He looked at him with confusion etched into his features, growing stronger.

“Ready for what?”

A car turned into the street, going too fast and skidded to a stop in the middle of the road. Out came Lothar and his sister, she with two handguns, and he sporting Khadgar’s modified gun. Khadgar smirked.

“For that.”


	11. Chapter 11

###### Scene 11

"Medivh!" Anduin screamed.

The vampire snarled. In one swift move, he grabbed Khadgar, who didn't have time to duck. He caught his neck in the crook of his arm. He tightened his grip until Khadgar's breath came out in sharp stilted whistles. His teeth and nails grew long and sharp and he hissed at the two humans rapidly making their way to them.

Anduin and Taria stopped still. Khadgar's eyes were wide with fear as he felt the edge of Medivh's nails scratch against the skin of his neck.

"One more step and he's dead," Medivh growled, momentarily tightening his hold on Khadgar's neck so that he choked.

Khadgar felt tears threaten to spill. Panic filled him even as he desperately tried to reassure Anduin with his eyes. He could see the anguish on the man's face and it made something in his chest tighten uncomfortably.

Did he believe Medivh to be capable of hurting him? In only the past twenty-four hours, everything he thought he knew about the man had been turned on its head. The scratch of Medivh's nails on his neck made his stomach churn.

Taria raised her gun at the same time as Lothar raised both his hands. They didn't move any closer.

Medivh chuckled.

"What do you think you're doing Taria? Do you really think your little toy can hurt me?"

"It might not kill you, but I doubt you'll be up for a fight after I blow your brains to pieces."

"Just try it."

He jostled Khadgar forward so he was standing right in front of him, shielding him. Khadgar whimpered.

"Oh shut up!" Medivh growled.

Swiftly, he grabbed Khadgar's head and pulled it to the side, exposing his neck. Moments before he felt the fangs pierce his skin, Khadgar realized what was happening. The pain was undescriptable as Medivh bit him. The poison burnt his way into his veins and Khadgar went numb.

The gunshot resonated dumbly and he barely felt his body hit the concrete.

"Khadgar," he heard faintly.

Then, the most extraordinary thing happened. At the first hint of the scent, Khadgar could feel himself thinking more clearly and he chased after it. He sunk his fangs into the willing flesh and he sucked the blood gently, drinking in big gulps. It neutralized the poison rendering it harmless.

Khadgar blinked. The light of the sun blinded him momentarily but he accustomed quickly. First thing he focused on was Taria's face, inches away from his. It was painted with a mixture of horror and fascination. When she realized he was watching her, she quickly smoothes her features. She straightened up from her crouching position. That's when Khadgar realized he was cradled in an embrace and his teeth were still deeply dug into the flesh. 

He carefully pulled away from Lothar's neck. His face was burning from embarrassment. A few drops of blood spilled out and he couldn't resist lapping them up. He could feel Lothar's body shiver violently. On a second thought, Khadgar pressed a small kiss to the already healed wound. Then, he pulled away from Lothar's embrace, expertly avoiding crossing his gaze. Lothar let him go.

They both stood back up. They brushed the dust off their clothes and cleared their throats. But then, Lothar stilled and made a choking noise. Khadgar looked over to him worriedly.

"Oh God," Lothar exclaimed.

Khadgar looked down. Medivh's body laid on the road, limbs twisted impossibly. His face was a mess of blown flesh and blood where Taria's bullet had hit him. But already, it was recomposing, regenerating at a terrifying pace. Khadgar had never seen it go so fast.

Lothar stumbled to the gutter and retched. Taria winced in sympathy. She carefully avoided gazing at Medivh's body, instead watching the house. She could see figures moving behind the windows and it worried her. But Khadgar wouldn't look away - couldn't, actually. The speed with which Medivh regenerated reminded him of the inhumane thing he'd done, drinking from an unconscious person, only a few hours ago. It revolted him.

"Lothar," he called, "give me the gun."

"What?" He exclaimed. "No."

"Give it to me!" Khadgar growled. "This needs to be finished, once and for all."

Lothar's breath hitched. Khadgar turned to glare at him and gesture to him.

"He's still my friend," Lothar whispered.

"Oh, Lothar," Khadgar said softly, "that man who was your friend was lost long ago."

Lothar's grip on the flamethrower tightened. He closed his eyes, twisted his mouth, and started handing it to him.

"Um, guys?"

They both jumped and turned towards Taria.

"Looks like we have company."

A dozen vampires were stepping out of the house. They looked nothing like the humans they once were - they had been completely overcome by their monstrous instincts. They stepped into the street, moving so as to completely surround them.

Khadgar cursed and assumed a fighting stance.

"They're in the light," Lothar stuttered. "They're not bothered by it. Why aren't they bothered by it?"

"Anduin, calm down," Taria hissed.

But Khadgar froze. He turned slowly towards the East, where the sun was shining brighter and brighter. He squinted so as to protect his eyes from the light but, otherwise, he didn’t feel uncomfortable. A heavy weight settled in his guts.

“They’re immune,” he said.

Lothar stared at him in disbelief.

“ _You’re_ immune!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah,” Khadgar said, shaking his head, “I don’t… know why.”

“Forget why - they’re coming!” Taria yelled.

The vampires were moving way too fast in the sunlight, crossing the small yard between the house and the street, heading straight for them. Lothar raised the flamethrower and yelled.

“Come get it, bastards!”

As soon as the first vampires were in range, he opened fire. The vampires burst in flames immediately. Their screams were unbearable but all too soon, silence fell as the vampires’ ashes fell to the ground. The rest of the vampires caught on quickly - they stayed at a safe distance from the flame, hissing. They started surrounding their small party. Khadgar cursed.

“Shit,” Lothar echoed. “What do we do now?”

Taria checked her charger and clicked the safety of her gun off. “Now,” she said, “we fight. The old fashioned way.”

She cocked, aimed, shot. The vampire’s head exploded under the pressure of the bullet. It stumbled, wavered before falling to the ground. Taria did not waste any time before aiming again but this time, the vampire managed to dodge it. It rushed forward at superhuman speed and was on Taria before anyone could make a move. Lothar aimed with the flamethrower but it was too late: it was already too close to Taria. She screamed as the vampire wrapped its clawed hands around her throat and hissed at her, baring its long fangs. It twisted her arm so as to make her let go of the gun, which clattered on the asphalt.

Khadgar growled and jumped, body slamming into the vampire. They rolled together on the ground. The vampire struggled under him, digging its fangs deep into his skin. He was regenerating faster than it could wound him, however, the fresh blood running like fire in his veins. Khadgar sunk his fangs into the vampire’s neck and his claws in its flanks. He ripped and pulled at its flesh, mangling its skin until the vampire stopped moving. As soon as he stilled though, drenched with blood and bits of flesh, breathing heavily, he could see the skin begin to mend itself. It horrified him.

Something was wrong - very wrong. This vampire shouldn’t be able to heal this quickly. Not without having drunk recently, and even then, it would have needed an insane amount of blood to be able to heal this fast. But Khadgar raised a hand to his own neck and touched where the barest hint of a scar was. A wound inflicted to him just minutes ago now was almost entirely gone. He cast a glance Lothar’s way, confused.

Lothar’s expression kicked the thoughts out of his mind at once. He was staring at him, with terror and disgust clear as day on his face. Taria, just a few feet away, was trembling, holding her arm tightly. Blood seeped abundantly in between her fingers. Lothar followed Khadgar’s gaze and the sight of his wounded sister snapped him out of his daze.

He’d watched as Khadgar didn’t hesitate to jump into action to save Taria and then proceeded to shred that vampire to pieces. It had been simultaneously the most horrifying and most fascinating thing he had ever bore witness to. Khadgar seemed to transform, focusing entirely on his victim, unable to stop. He became a killer, moved by instinct, with a single goal in mind. No longer held back by morals or fear, he had finally been free to unleash his true strength. Lothar was so glad that he was on their side.

Khadgar, as if sensing his gaze, had turned to stare at him and his eyes widened before he yelled:

"Behind you!"

Lothar swiveled, ducking on instinct. The vampire's claws slashed the air above him where his chest had been moments ago.

He did not hesitate: he pulled the trigger on the flamethrower and the vampire was at once engulfed in flames. It had taken advantage of his distraction to get close too him - too close. It was turned into a neat, tiny pile of ash in an instant. Lothar growled, turning on himself with the flamethrower aimed threateningly at the rest of the vampires. They hissed and flinched out of reach.

“Come on, you cowardly pieces of shit!” he yelled.

He shouldn’t have. The vampires all pounced on him at the same time and he didn’t have time to react. The first to reach him knocked him down on the ground. They tore into his skin with the claws. Lothar screamed.

And Khadgar screamed with him. He jumped amongst the swarm of vampires and tore through them. He couldn’t see past the rage that boiled in him. The vampires soon left Anduin alone to focus on Khadgar. He screeched at them, his entire body transforming into an inhuman beast but he couldn’t care anymore. His feet had turned into talons, his hands into bony claws, his face was covered in a dark fuzz and out of his forehead sprouted two misshapen horns. But he felt no pain.

The vampires backed down, terrified. Khadgar screeched once more to make sure they wouldn’t try anything before kneeling besides Anduin. He was curled in on himself, shaking violently. Blood gushed from his numerous wounds. Khadgar leant over him. Quickly, he bit his own wrist and placed it against Anduin’s lips.

“Drink,” he whispered, his voice a low gravelly hum.

Anduin latched onto his injured wrist and lapped at the blood hungrily. 

Khadgar felt Taria kneel next to him and heard her little gasp when her brother’s wound started healing themselves. Khadgar had to gently push him away for him to free his wrist. Anduin licked his lips before opening eyes that glowed a faint red. It receded almost immediately as Anduin blinked and came back to.

“Are you okay?” Khadgar asked.

Anduin blinked twice more. He nodded mutely.

Khadgar cast his gaze around them. The vampires had surrounded them tightly. They seemed even more numerous than mere minutes ago.

Taria looked around and spotted the flame thrower a few meters away. She lunged to grab it. A heeled boot came down and trapped it before she could take hold of it. She raised her head and stared in horror into Medivh’s face. His skin was still repairing itself and the sight was nauseating. Taria fell back and crawled away until she was huddled near Anduin and Khadgar. Anduin had sat up, leaning into Khadgar for support. He gazed hatefully into Medivh’s monstrous face.

Medivh smirked.

“How sweet,” he cooed. “You’ve actually bonded with him. You’ve exceeded even my wildest expectations, Young Trust. Too bad you have to die.”

Khadgar growled.

“No, no, none of that,” Medivh sang. He bent down to pick up the modified gun and twirled it around, examining it. “Interesting piece of machinery. Ingenious.”

He threw it behind him and it clattered loudly on the ground.

“Well, thanks ever so much for your help, Khadgar,” Medivh continued.

Khadgar frowned. “What for?”

Medivh gestured widely, encompassing the whole of the vampires, whose eyes were all focused on the group. They looked as if they were barely holding themselves back, foaming at the mouth, waiting for the order to swoop down on them.

“Without your precious participation, I would never have figured out the right formula for us to bear the sunlight. Well,” he added cheerfully, clapping his hands together. “Enough chit-chat. Pups!”

The vampires all shivered in anticipation. Taria closed her eyes tightly, Lothar froze with his eyes and mouth open, and Khadgar straightened up to his full height, ready to take them on.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” a voice suddenly interrupted.

There was a ripple in the tight ranks of the vampires, ready to pounce, and they parted to reveal a tall dark-skinned woman standing, the flamethrower balanced on her shoulder. Behind her, a young and pale young man was standing, looking lost.

Medivh smiled.

“Garona! Callan! How good of you to join-”

But he never got the chance to finish his sentence. Garona pulled the trigger and Medivh was engulfed in flames. He didn’t even scream. When the flame finally relented, Garona dropped the gun and grinned maniacally, panting.

All that was left of Medivh was the tiniest pile of ashes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ngl my inspiration for Khadgar's vampire form is 100% Howl's Moving Castle specifically https://i.ytimg.com/vi/FZqrdWkkSnk/maxresdefault.jpg


	12. The end

###### Scene 12

A profound silence fell onto the crowded street. They all gaped as they watched the place where Medivh had been only seconds before. But the quiet only lasted a second: the crazed vampires turned to Garona, threatening. She didn’t hesitate to grab and raise the flamethrower.

“You try anything and I swear I will blast you all the way to freaking Mordor, do not test me.”

They hissed and growled but stayed at a safe distance. They glanced at each other as if unsure what to do now that Medivh was dead.

Khadgar didn’t blame them. He shook himself out of his shock the fastest. He stepped forward and bared his teeth in what he hoped was a threatening pose. It seemed to do the trick: the vampires started backing away slowly, exchanging wary glances, before they all turned into bats and flew away.

“They can do that?” he heard Anduin ask, his voice weak and thin.

He turned to wink at him and noticed how pale the man was. Before he could get to him, however, Callan rushed to his father’s side. 

Anduin reached for him and Callan fell to his knees, clutching his hands in between his own. They laughed in relief and touched their foreheads lightly. Callan reached for his aunt and brought her into the embrace and they all hugged.

Anduin stroke his son’s pale cheek devoid of life with a pained look. He gently lifted his upper lip and touched his pointed teeth while Callan tried to get away, hanging his head.

“I’m sorry, dad,” he said.

Anduin shushed him immediately and pulled him even closer. “Nonsense. I’m so happy you’re alive.”

Khadgar smiled as he watched father and son be reunited. A chuckle near him made him glance away, just in time to see Garona stumble and fall to the floor. He hurried to her, gathering her in his arms. She was crying. He hugged her tightly as she shivered and sobbed, the adrenaline from the recent fight leaving her shaken.

“Sh, sh, it’s alright, it’s going to be fine,” he murmured in her ears.

Medivh had been her Master, just as he had been Khadgar’s. When he had started looking for a way for vampires to live in peace with humans, Khadgar and Garona had been the only two he had trusted enough to tell. After Medivh and Khadgar had grown separate, he had also lost touch with Garona. But he wasn’t surprised that she would ultimately chose to help him against Medivh. He couldn’t even imagine the betrayal she must have felt when Medivh had joined Gul’dan in his extremism.

Even though she was Gul’dan’s niece and as such he had always kept a close eye on her, she had always been one to advocate for vampire and human equality. Khadgar had no doubt she had been instrumental in Medivh’s discovery of the agent that made it so vampires could stand the sun. 

Khadgar frowned as he thought about his own indirect role in the discovery. He turned his head slightly, just enough so he could see Anduin.

He wasn’t surprised when their eyes crossed as Anduin sought him out at the same time. He smiled at him and Anduin smiled back.

Garona gasped in his arms and he allowed her to pull back. She tried desperately to speak but couldn’t through the sobs still racking her entire body.

“It’s alright,” he repeated, placing his hands on each sides of her face and staring her right in the eyes. “We’re going to find him and we’re going to end him. And then, we’re going to educate each and every vampire and human out there and we’re going to win. We’re going to live, Garona. You hear me?”

She nodded widely. He pressed her against him tightly again until he felt her tremors slow down and stop.

In the distance, ambulance and police alarms sounded, filling the quiet morning. 

***

The hospital room was bare of everything except the medical appliances and, on a small tablet, the bright yellow flowers. The blood transfusion dripped in a steady rhythm and Khadgar couldn’t take his eyes off. He didn’t feel any need to tear the bag and drink. He didn’t completely understand why but he thought maybe he knew the reason. His eyes naturally glided down the drain, the needle as it sunk into the soft pale human skin. Up the arm, past the throat where the skin fluttered with each heartbeat. Khadgar swallowed.

Anduin’s eyes were opened. He started.

“Oh, uh,” he stumbled. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Anduin croaked before smiling.

He was still heavy with sleep but he made the effort to reach for Khadgar. He grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

“Here, have some water,” Khadgar said, placing the straw in between Anduin’s lips.

“I didn’t think you’d still be here,” Anduin admitted.

“Where else would I be?” Khadgar asked without thinking.

Anduin raised his eyebrow and Khadgar blushed furiously. 

“I mean, uhm.”

“It’s okay,” Anduin whispered. “I’m glad.”

He seemed to go back to sleep then, and Khadgar sighed in relief. His hand was still tightly held in Anduin’s but he didn’t feel the need to pull away. Joined by the touching of their skins, he could feel even more clearly the current that came and went from one to the other, flowing freely in between them. Khadgar didn’t understand it but he could recognize its existence all the same.

“You’ve bonded with him,” Medivh had said. In the midst of everything, Khadgar hadn’t really had the time to ponder on that. Bonded, he turned the word over and over in his head, and felt the anguish rise in his chest.

“Khadgar.”

He turned his head towards the door which was wide open. Taria leaned against the threshold. Her arm was bandaged and held in a sling but she looked healthy. Her sight was a great relief to Khadgar who smiled and invited her in.

“How is he?” she asked.

“Tired,” he said quietly.

They both glanced at Anduin before looking at each other.

“How’s Llane?” Khadgar remembered to ask.

Taria seemed grateful for the attention as she smiled, a little too tightly but genuinely. “Still in a coma,” she said, sadly.

Silence settled between them before Taria dared speak again.

“And how are you?”

Khadgar thought about the question before answering truthfully: “Worried.”

Taria nodded slowly, as if she understood all the implications of the word, as if she actually knew what was going through his head right now. And, Khadgar thought, maybe she did. He was told that was something mothers sometimes did - understand the people around them better than they did themselves. He found himself strangely comforted in the way Taria seemed to get what he meant more than he had, speaking the word.

“He cares about you, you know,” Taria said, staring straight into his eyes. “A lot.”

Khadgar frowned. “He doesn’t have a choice,” he said, his voice quivering.

Taria laughed and the sound seemed so wrong to Khadgar that he felt himself withdraw before he’d even moved. Anduin’s hand fell atop the bed with a soft thump, making Khadgar start.

“I don’t pretend to understand how any of this works,” Taria said, “but I know my brother. I know how distrustful he is but he trusted you. Whatever this bond is between the two of you, it is something to cherish, not scorn. And I know for a fact that it isn’t something that Anduin can afford to lose,” she added, eyes gleaming with mirth.

With that said, she leaned over the bed to reach for him and patted his arm. He smiled at her tightly as she left the room. Khadgar glanced at the ceiling, at a loss. He only glanced down when he felt a hand seeking his. He stared at Anduin who squeezed his hand, eyebrows slanted downward and mouth set in a tiny frown.

“You heard,” Khadgar stated.

“Yes.”

“We’ll never know how much of this,” he said, gesturing between the two of them, “is real and how much is the bond. The magic,” he added.

Anduin stared at him for a long minute. Khadgar started squirming under the attention, doing his best to avoid crossing Anduin’s inquisitive gaze. He only turned his focus back on him when he brushed his thumb across his hand, so gently.

“So what?” Anduin asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Khadgar’s eyes widened. He stared, dumbly, until Anduin got braver and pulled slightly on his hand. Khadgar went easily.

Their lips brushed hesitantly at first before pressing more firmly. They pulled away to search each other’s gazes and found the same apprehension, the same fears as their own.

“We’ll figure it out together,” Anduin whispered, “yeah?”

Khadgar nodded. His eyes were irresistibly drawn to Anduin’s lips. He pressed another firm kiss on them. Anduin’s hand came up to settle on his neck and pull him closer. Their lips parted at the same time. Angling their heads, they deepened the kiss and hummed in unison.

Hurried footsteps in the corridor reached Khadgar’s ears first, before the voices echoed in the halls.

Khadgar and Anduin pulled away abruptly moments before Garona burst into the room, panicked nurses following close. She smiled triumphantly when she saw Khadgar.

“I knew you’d be in here,” she exclaimed. “But the love making is going to have to wait!”

“Garona, what,” Khadgar tried saying but he was interrupted as she grabbed both his arms and pulled him up.

“Sorry, Lothar,” she called behind her shoulder, already dragging Khadgar out of the room, “I’m stealing him. We’ll be back!”

Anduin smiled bemusedly and waved them off. 

Halfway down the hall, Khadgar managed to stop Garona.

“What’s going on?” he asked, out of breath.

She grinned, a mad gleam in her eye. “I’ve found him.”

Khadgar immediately grew serious. “You’re sure?”

“Entirely,” Garona stated. “No one has been seen entering or leaving the house for days except for his favorite pet, Blackhand. He’s lying low but he’s too predictable. He’s there, I know it.”

Khadgar exhaled slowly, trying to keep his quickening heartbeat in check.

“Well then,” he said, straightening his spine, and sent Garona a daring look. “What are we waiting for?”

She smirked. “Let’s go kick his sorry ass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hozier voice* that's it.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](aegwynnn.tumblr.com)   
> 


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